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http://www.archive.org/details/physiologyhygienOOhatf 


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T  AND  HYGIENE 


OF  THE 


HOUSE  IN  WHICH  WE  LIVE. 


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MARCUS  P.  HATFIELD,  A.M.,   M.D., 

Professor  Diseases  of  Children,  Medical  Department,  North-ivestern  University. 


"  Know  ye  not  that  ye  are  the  temple  of  God,  and  that  the  Spirit  of  God  dwelleth  in 
you  ?  If  any  man  defile  the  temple  of  God,  him  shall  God  destroy  ;  for  the  temple  of  God 
is  holy,  which  temple  ye  are." 


NEW  YORK: 

CHAUTAUQUA     PRESS, 

C.  L.  S.  C.  Department, 

805  Broadway. 


The  required  books  of  the  C.  L.  S.  C.  are  recommended  by 
a  Council  of  six.  It  must,  however,  be  understood  that  recom- 
mendation does  not  involve  an  approval  by  the  Council,  or  by 
any  member  of  it,  of  every  principle  or  doctrine  contained  in  the 
book  recommended. 


*PBE*T  S.  FREEOMAN  ^^ 


RAND   AVERY  COMPANY,   PRINTERS,   BOSTON. 


Copyright  1807,  by  PHILLIPS  &  Hunt,  805  Broadway,  New  York. 


PREFACE. 


The  body,  in  this  book,  has  been  likened,  in  its  various 
parts,  to  a  house,  and  it  may  be  truthfully  claimed  that  no 
other  of  man's  dwellings  has  as  many  "modern  con- 
veniences "  as  his  body.  There  is  nothing  that  his  inge- 
nuity has  yet  devised  for  the  safety  and  comfort  of  his 
home  that  he  may  not  find  foreshadowed,  and  usually  bet- 
tered, in  the  body.  Where,  for  instance,  can  you  find  an 
automatic  steam  or  hot-water  heater  that  will  perform  its 
work  as  well  as  the  thermogenetic  system  of  the  body  ? 
Where  can  the  block  or  building  be  found  that  is  as  well 
sewered  and  ventilated  ?  Furthermore,  he  finds  in  this 
house  of  ours  elevators,  telegraphs,  and  telephones  innumer- 
able, also  pictures,  photographs,  library  and  music-rooms, 
and  a  dining-room  from  twenty  to  thirty  feet  long.  But 
the  best  of  all  are  the  hosts  of  trained  and  uncomplaining 
servants  that  go  with  the  premises ;  porters,  cooks,  wait- 
ers, messengers,  photographers,  carpenters  and  joiners,  are 
all  found  on  the  estate,  and  ready  to  work  without  other 
wages  than  food  and  lodgings  for  their  life-time,  and 
they  never  leave  the  property  on  any  pretext  whatever. 

Moreover,  this  house  of  ours  is  portable,  and  can  be 
moved  whenever  we  please  ;  and,  what  is  more  remark- 
able, this  house  of  clay,  as  the  theologians  call  it,  can  be 


■k  Preface. 

rented  for  a  term  of  years  under  the  most  reasonable  con- 
ditions. All  the  Landlord  asks  in  return  is  that  the  prem- 
ises should  be  kept  in  good  repair.  Surely  the  terms  are 
not  hard,  not  difficult  to  comply  with  ;  but,  light  and  easy 
as  they  are,  the  penalties  attached  to  non-fulfillment  are 
heavy.  Health  is  prompt  and  cheerful  compliance  with 
the  terms  upon  which  we  hold  our  bodies.  Disease  is 
our  witting  or  unwitting  breaking  of  them.  Hence  the 
absurdity  of  the  question,  "  Why  is  not  health  catching 
instead  of  disease?"  Disease  never  occurs  until  the  laws 
of  health  have  been  broken  somewhere — either  by  "  this 
man,  or  his  father,"  by  violation  of  personal  or  public 
hygiene.  This  little  book  is  designed  to  aid,  as  far  as 
possible,  its  readers  to  keep  these  laws,  and  in  so  far  as  it 
accomplishes  this,  its  purpose  has  been  fulfilled. 

M.  P.  Hatfield. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

MOSAICS  AND  TAPESTRIES. 

The  body  a  mosaic — Hair  follicles,  number — Epithelial  scales — Germinal 
matter — Karyokinesis — Protoplasm,  and  alcohol — Blisters — Hairs  in  court 
— Cowlicks  and  goose-skin — Care  of  the  hair — Wigs  and  hair-dyes — Dan- 
druff— Furred  tongues  and  finger-nails — Corns,  scars,  cartilage — Areolar 
tissue,  fascia — Wrinkles — Rameses Page  9 

CHAPTER  II. 

BEAMS,  RAFTERS,  CUSHIONS,  AND  SERVANTS. 

Two  hundred  and  forty  timbers,  long,  flat,  short,  irregular — Rickety 
houses  and  children — Skull,  cupola,  "brain  shell" — Cowley's  comparison, 
cubic  contents  and  greatness — Phrenology  and  sinuses,  fourteen  face  bones 
and  uses,  seven  neck  bones  and  mechanism — Atlas  and  axis — Crooked 
backs  and  round  shoulders,  how  made  and  how  remedied — Five  sections  to 
arms,  horses',  pigs',  and  monkeys';  Ribs  and  thorax;  Body  really  a  double 
tube,  Chinaman  on  corsets,  and  Dr.  Brown  on  fashion — Backbone,  thirty- 
three  levers,  Pott's  disease,  bumpers  in  back-bone  and  why  shorter  at  night 
than  in  the  morning,  Rabbi's  immortal  bone — Chemistry  of  the  bones — 
Fossil  soap,  adipocere  and  Frenchman's  soap — Earthy  part  of  bones,  pecul- 
iar markings — Growth  requires  twenty  to  thirty-five  years — Varieties  of 
joints,  and  why — Walking,  what — The  uses  of  muscles,  etymology,  number, 
Darning  of  more  important  groups — Voluntary  and  involuntary — How  dif- 
fer— Necessity  for  involuntary — Striped  muscular  tissue — Checkers  in  a 
purse — Delicacy  of  action — The  hand  as  a  machine — All  work  moving 
something — Skill,  exactness  of  muscular  action — Cramp,  what — Muscular 
sense — Blind  physicians,  tailors,  postmaster-general — Wonder  of  walking, 
muscular  growth,   heat,    and    exhaustion — Starved    muscles — Calisthenics 


0  COKTBNTS. 

versus  house-work — Folly  of  laziness — Blessing  and  necessity  of  work — 
Paralysis — Death  of  muscles — Rigor  mortis — Necessity  and  uses  of  fat — 
Where  found— Starvation— Shakespeare  on  fat— Fat  globules— Cellular  tis- 
sue a  buttery,  marrow  a  preserve  closet Page  25 

CHAPTER  III. 

DINING-ROOM,  COOKS,  AND  SCULLIONS. 

Food,  what,  necessary  elements  (15),  and  where  used,  bricks  and  mortar 
of  house,  proximate  principles,  groups,  body  chemically  an  egg — Three 
groups  of  foods  required — Frenchman's  scheme  to  make  a  body,  why  fail- 
ure— Cooked  versus  raw  food — Teaching  of  teeth  concerning  food ;  Tooth 
dyspepsia,  grinders  required,  why  two  sets,  parts  of  a  tooth,  enamel  prisms, 
toothache,  decay  and  candy  —  False  teeth  not  new  —  Chinese  tooth 
carpenters — Eupepsia,  what — Digestive  ferments — Antiquity  of  pepsin — 
Chyme,  chyle,  lacteals,  and  lymphatics,  lymphatic  glands — Scrofula — Glut- 
tony more  frequent  than  drunkenness — John  Wesley's  rules — Adulteration 
of  food — Cost  of  food — Carbonaceous  foods  and  heat 60 

CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  WHEEL  AT  THE  CISTERN. 

Eastern  irrigation — Aptness  of  the  comparison — Size  of  the  heart — Daily 
work — The  heart  pump,  parts  and  valves — Heart  disease  and  sudden  death 
— Size  and  place  of  heart,  apex  beat,  the  round  of  circulation — "  Chair 
courante,"  color  and  chemistry  of  blood,  red  rouleaux,  white  corpuscles, 
hasmatoblasts,  amoeba,  pus  corpuscles,  inflammation,  Nature's  surgery, 
fi brine,  importance  of,  "  Bleeders,"  corpuscles  Swiss  body-guard,  numbers, 
coats  of  arteries,  veins,  intervascular  spaces — Fainting,  blushing,  vaso- 
motor system,  heating  the  body — Coagulation  of  the  blood,  fibrine,  exercise 
— Jenness  Miller  costume — Tobacco  heart — Apoplexy 94 

CHAPTER  V. 

SEWERAGE  AND  VENTILATION. 

Skin  more  than  an  elastic  bag — Its  miles  of  tubing  remove  one  half  sew- 
erage of  the  bod}r — Relation  of  skin  to  kidneys — Pope's  gilded  boy — Water 
cures,  rubber  bandage,  relation  of  perspiration  to  heat — Fatality  of  burns, 
and  why — Lymphatics  of  skin — Lymph  spaces — Tonsils  and  relation  to 
liver — Liver,  what — "Blue  devils" — Ur.ea  ashes,  uric  acid  cinders — Diabetes 


Contents.  7 

— Anatomy  of  the  kidney — Dropsy,  catching  cold,  cold  feet  and  death — 
Creatin  and  creatiuin,  typhoid  fever,  filth  diseases— Ptoaminea  and  leucoa- 
mines — Effects  on  system,  life  an  eddy — The  body's  Gehenua — The  wisdom 
of  Moses — Earth  closets — Dangers  of  constipation — Saint  Simeon  Stylites — 
"  Fear  God,"  etc. — Keep  the  body  clean — Importance  of  ventilation — Black 
Hole  at  Calcutta — Asphyxiated  prayer-meetings — Ranch  and  Adirondack 
cures — Quantity  of  air  required  for  adult,  sleeping-rooms,  body,  how  ven- 
tilated— Principle  that  of  latest  science — Cilia  of  air-passages — How  not  to 
die  of  consumption — Tidal  air,  its  impurities,  respirators — Chloride  of  pal- 
ladium alarm — Sewer-gas  and  diphtheria — Surgical  pavilions Page  128 


CHAPTER  VI. 

"  THE  DAUGHTERS  OF  MUSIC,  AND  THEY  THAT  LOOK  OUT  AT 

THE  WINDOWS." 

The  tongue's  box,  not  necessary  for  speech,  Paul  and  0.  W.  Holmes, 
Unguals,  labials,  and  palatals — Need  of  soft  palate — Epiglottis,  larynx,  vo- 
cal cords,  speaking  machines,  audiphone,  clergyman's  sore  throat,  errors 
in  public  speaking,  John  Wesley's  prohibitions — Turbinated  bones — Nasal 
catarrh,  cigarette-smoking — Catiline's  "Keep  your  mouth  shut" — Eusta- 
chian tube,  bones  of  the  middle  ear,  membranes,  windows,  semicircular 
canals,  cochlea  bags,  semicircular  filaments,  otoliths,  aural  staircase,  rods 
of  Corti,  eight  thousand  tuning-forks — Rood's  resonators,  sound-waves,  lim- 
its of  hearing — Music  and  rods  of  Corti — The  new  song  and  the  music  of  the 
spheres — "  Eye  hath  not  seen  " — Camera  whose  negatives  are  preserved — 
Retina,  first  plate — Lens,  dark  box,  screens,  diaphragm,  lids,  and  lachrymal 
apparatus — Why  cry — Lachrymal  duct,  handkerchiefs  and  tear  jugs — Red 
eyes — Leah — Cross  eyes  and  remedy — Muscles  of  lens — Headache  from  eye- 
tire,  far  sight  with  age,  spectacles,  albinos,  beauty  and  use  of  iris,  light  in 
brain,  not  eye — Seeing  stars,  vitreous  and  aqueous  humors — One-eightieth 
inch  retina,  rods  and  cones — Length  of  impression,  wheel  of  light — Light 
for  reading  and  whence,  black  spots,  blur,  dread  of  light,  twilight  reading, 
twitching  lids,  eyes  versus  ears 1 G3 

CHAPTER  VII. 

TELEGRAPHS  AND  PHONES. 

Body  in  threes — Nerve  first  telegraph  cable — Substance  of  Schwann, 
sheath,  axis  cylinder — Plexus — Ganglion  a  relay  station — Sympathetic 
nervous  system — "Involuntary  nerves" — Neurasthenia-Spinal  cord,  A.  M. 
and   P.  S.    roots— Pile  of  ganglia — Brain  knots — Brains  of  insect-,  corpus 


8  Contents. 

callosum  and  dusty  blanc-mange,  ventricles,  nerve  cells  and  tubes- 
Student's  comparison  of  membranes  of  brain,  "  spider's  web  " — "  The  tree  of 
life" — Crumpled  cloths — Medulla  and  relation  to  P.  S.  ganglia — Two  hun- 
dred and  sixty  feet  per  second  quick  as  thought,  3,155,160,000  ideas — 
Phosphates  and  thought— Neuralgia — Exhausted  batteries — Sleep,  victory 
of  sympathetic  over  cerebro-spinal — Amount  required — Insomnia  and  busi- 
ness— Dreams — Somnambulism— Mental  habits,  memorj' — Soul's  picture 
house  vs.  Pompeiian  frescoes — As  a  man  thinketh  so  he  is — Mrs.  Browning 
on  reading — Newspapers,  slang  and  gossip,  and  habit — White  Cross 
Knights Page  185 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

MOTH,  RUST,  AND  MICROBES. 

Mortgage  with  each  lease — Foreclosure  largely  optional  with  tenant — 
Terms  irrevocable,  and  the  best  possible  under  the  circumstances — Earache 
and  brain  fever,  diphtheria  and  filth — The  place  of  the  doctor — Faith  cures 
— Dr.  Buckley — Hercules  and  the  wagoner — The  mystery  of  death  and 
suffering — Hilton  on  pain — Saxe  Holm — Chinese  and  cholera — Providence 
never  does  for  us  what  we  can  do  for  ourselves — Gold,  silver,  grain,  tim- 
ber— School-house  to  study  the  works  of  God — Ourselves  not  least — Neg- 
lect of  body  for  books  foolishness,  since  only  one  lease  permitted — Paul's 
letter  to  the  Corinthians — The  body  a  Shylock  when  wronged — Rack-rent 
— Law  inflexible  but  just — Ignorance  no  bar — As  yet  in  part — Through  a 
glass,  darkly — What  science  has  to  say  of  moth  and  rust — Aptness  of  terms 
— Oxidation — Erernacausis — Life  a  perpetual  miracle — Why — Moses's  bush 
a  type  of  the  body — On  microbes  and  bacteria — Definition,  varieties — Torula 
and  fermentation — Sore  mouth — Anthrax — Scarlet  fever — Tuberculosis — 
Malaria — Beale  on  bacteria — Fascination  of  the  subject — Infinitely  great 
and  little— Wordsworth 210 

PART  II.— APPENDIX. 

Practical  hints  in  regard  to  the  care  and  development  of  the  body,  ac- 
cording to  the  methods  of  Dr.  Anderson  and  Wm.  Blaikie 257 

Index 211 


Physiology  and  Hygiene. 


CHAPTER  I. 

MOSAICS  AXD  TAPESTRIES. 


There  are  at  Rome  four  marvelous  mosaics.  Viewed 
from  the  pavement  beneath  they  appear  like  exquisite  life- 
size  paintings  representing  the  four  evangelists,  but  with  a 
nearer  approach  they  become  gigantic  in  their  proportions, 
and  it  is  found  that  their  Avealth  of  color  and  beauty  of 
form  are  due  to  bits  of  colored  glass  and  stone,  so  skillfully 
arranged  that  at  a  distance  they  produce  all  the  effect  of  an 
oil-painting. 

So  it  is  with  the  human  body  when  studied  beneath  a 
microscope.  All  the  beauties  of  color  and  form  of  this 
earthly  habitation  are  there  found  to  be  due  to  a  marvel- 
ous mosaic  of  cells  whose  workmanship  is  more  exquisite 
than  that  of  any  Roman  or  Florentine  workman.  Even  an 
ordinary  hand-glass  will  reveal  the  ragged  edges  and  rough 
joinings  of  these  pictures  in  stone,  but  the  finest  micro- 
scope fails  to  show  any  imperfection  in  the  finish  of  the 
mosaic  of  cells  found  in  the  body.  Take  for  instance  the 
cross  section  of  a  single  human  hair  and  the  sac  in  which  it 
is  held.  In  what  king's  palace  can  a  more  beautiful  piece  of 
mosaic  be  found  than  this  ?  German  patience,  like  divine  wis- 
dom, has  recently  taken  the  time  to  number  the  hairs  of  our 
heads,  and  iimls  that  a  red  head  has  90,000  of  these  mosaics, 
a  black   108,000,  and   two  brown  ones    109,000  and  140,000 


10 


Physiologt  a.m>  Hygiknb. 


respectively,  and  each   one 
perfectly  shown  in  the  cut. 


Cross  section  of  human  hair  follicle,  show- 
ing outer  fibrous  coat,  basement  membrane, 
outer  root  sheath,  polyhedral  cells,  inner  root 
sheath,  and  hair  itself. 


finished  with  a  dainty  care  im- 
No  wonder  Paul  declares  that  a 
woman's  hair  is  her  glory. 
What  would  he  have  said 
could  he  have  looked 
through  tlie  modern  micro- 
scope, which  reveals  thou- 
sands of  wonders  never 
dreamed  of  without  its 
aid  ?  And  yet  we  take 
weary  journeys  to  far-off 
Rome  and  Naples  to  see 
Pompeian  mosaics  with- 
out a  tithe  of  the  beauty 
of  those  we  carry  about 
with    us    daily. 

Nor  are  the  tissues,  or 
tapestries  of  the  body  less  wonderful  than  those  of  the  Gobe- 
lin factory,  which  cannot  produce  such  a  sack  as  the  human 
integument,  or  skin.  Such  another  bag  was  never  elsewhere 
woven,  for  its  fabrics  are  so  delicate  that  they  need  to  be 
kept  covered  with  fine  powder  lest  they  should  be  in- 
jured. Histologists  call  this  powder  dried  epithelial  scales, 
and  with  these  the  whole  surface  of  the  body  is  dusted 
in  layers  of  various  thickness,  always  deepest  where  there  is 
the  greatest  pressure.  Hence,  on  the  soles  of  the  feet  and 
the  palms  of  the  hands  the  outer  layers  of  the  skin  become 
thick  and  horny ;  but  epithelial  scales  are  found  every-where 
else  as  well,  completely  covering  the  surface  of  the  true 
skin,  which  lies  beneath,  and  is  thus  protected  by  these 
fine  white  scales,  softer  than  snow  and  serving  a  not  dissimi- 
lar use.  Take  the  blade  of  a  penknife  and  gently  scrape  the 
back  of  the  hand,  and  in  a  few  seconds  these  scales  may  be 
found  as  a  fine  white  dust  on  the  knife  blade.  So  light  and 
impalpable  is  this  epithelial  powder  that  a  breath  carries  it 
away,  and  fortunately  so,  for  otherwise  we  should  grow  as 
thick-skinned  as  a  rhinoceros.     Layer  after  layer  of  these 


Mosaics  and  Tapestkies.  11 

dried  scales  are  continually  falling  from  the  surface  of  the 
body  in  larger  numbers  than  the  dead  leaves  of  an  autumn 
forest,  so  that  epithelial  scales  can  be  found  every-where  that 
dust  gathers,  "from  the  tops  of  the  highest  mountains  to 
the  innermost  recesses  of  the  pyramids."  And  whence 
comes  this  never-ending  supply  of  fine,  branny  scales  ?  They 
are  pushed  up  from  below  by  an  incessant  growth  of  new 
integument,  or  skin,  which  shoulders  away  the  parent 
cells  which  produced  it,  and  thrusts  them  out  to  die  of  ex- 
posure, like  a  pious  Hindoo  on  the  banks  of  the  Ganges. 
Integument  consists  therefore  of  two  kinds  of  matter:  loose 
white  scales  on  the  surface  of  the  body  and  the  rounder, 
moister  ones  beneath  ;  the  former  are  dying  or  dead,  and  the 
latter  are  alive,  and  possess  germinal  matter. 

Germinal  matter,  so   named  by  Dr.  Lionel  Beale,  is  per- 
haps the  most  marvelous  thing  in  all  the  human  body.     It  is, 
in  a  certain  sense,  its  builder ;  for  there  is  a  time  when  the 
body  begins  its  existence  as  a  transparent  mass  in  which  are 
imbedded  granular  points.     These  differ  from  the  matter  in 
which  they  are  imbedded  by  the  latter  refusing  to  take  a 
stain  from  a  carmine   solution,  which  readily  tints  germinal 
matter  with  its  characteristic  color.     This  germinal  matter 
is  almost  as  transparent  as  that  by  which  it  is  surrounded, 
and,  so   far   as   can   at   present  be  ascertained,  is  perfectly 
structureless.     It  consists  of  minute  points  not  larger  than 
one  fifty-thousandth  of  an  inch   in  diameter,  scattered  or  in 
groups,  and  always  surrounded  by  larger  or  smaller  quanti- 
ties of   so-called  formed  material  (matrix).      This   formed 
material  is  supposed  to  be  the  product  of  germinal  matter, 
and,  unlike  germinal  matter,  has  no  more  vitality  than  any 
other  organic  compound.     Like  other  organic  matter,  formed 
material  is   subjected  to  the  usual  laws  of  chemistry,  and  is 
oxidized  and  changed  like  similar  material  outside  of   the 
body;,  but  germinal  matter  resists  such  agents,  and  as  long 
as  it  lives  possesses  the  property  of  being  able  to  project  one 
part  of  itself  in  advance  of    the  remainder.     In   this   way 
germinal  matter  may  travel  directly  through  any  of  the  tis- 


12 


Physiology  and   Hygiene. 


sues  of  the  body,  apparently  using  formed  material  for  nutri- 
ment as  it  divides  and  subdivides.  The  chief  work  of  germinal 
matter  seems  to  be  its  division  and  subdivision;  upon  this 
the  growth  of  the  tissues  depends,  while  cell  walls  and  in- 
termediate substance  (formed  material)  become  variously 
modified  and  form  the  various  parts  of  the  body,  such  as 
bone,  cartilage,  muscle,  and  integument.  And  thus  it  is  the 
body  grows,  germinal  matter  breaking  up  into  smaller  por- 
tions, or  nuclei,  as  they  are  called,  each  taking  a  spheroidal 
portion  of  formed  material  with  it,  and  dividing  and  sub- 
dividing as  growth  requires,  often  after  the  most  intricate 
fashion,  weaving  itself  into  graceful  stars,  loops,  rosettes, 
wreaths,  etc.  (such  as  here  figured),  infinitesimally  small,  of 
course,   for  they  can  be  seen   only  through    a   microscope. 

Upon  these  freaks  of 
motion,  for  such  they 
seem,  depend  the  exist- 
ence of  the  body;  for 
these  twistings  and 
turnings  of  germinal 
matter  precede  its  self- 
division,  and  upon  its 
subdivison  depends  the 
multiplication  of  cells 
and  all  that  it  implies  in 
the  matter  of  growth 
and  decay. 

Germinal  matter  is 
the  same  thing  as  the  protoplasm  over  which  the  scientists 
and  theologians  have  often  so  unwisely  fought.  Protoplasm  is 
not  God,  as  some  of  the  scientific  men  would  have  us  believe, 
but,  on  the  other  hand,  it  as  really  exists  as  air,  and  is  as  cap- 
able of  being  shown  in  its  wondrous  work.  Denying  the  ex- 
istence of  protoplasm,  or  whatever  you  may  prefer  to  call 
it,  does  not  abolish  it.  It  may  be  used  unfairly  as  a  weapon 
against  revealed  religion,  but  too  many  such  efforts  have 
failed  in  the  past,  to  give  the  Christian  any  uneasiness  in  re- 


Karyokinesis,  or    movements    of    cellular   proto- 
plasm. 


Mosaics  and  Tapestries.  13 

gard  to  the  final  outcome.  Let  him  wait  patiently,  and  he 
finds  that  his  enemy's  weapons  become  his  best  defense,  as 
to-day  one  of  the  weightiest  arguments  against  alcohol  is 
framed  from  its  effects  upon  this  germinal  or  protoplasmic 
matter.    ^ 

Strong  alcohol  dropped  on  heart  muscles  first  paralyzes, 
then  kills,  this  germinal  matter.  But,  it  may  be  said,  only 
dilute  alcohol  is  used  for  drinking,  and  this,  when  taken  into 
the  circulation,  quickens  the  heart's  action.  Yes,  temporarily, 
as  it  also  makes  us  for  a  time  think  ourselves  wiser  and 
stronger  than  any  one  else.  "O,"  says  Dr.  Holmes,  "if  the 
alcoholic  virtues  would  only  wash!  "  But,  alas!  they  will  not, 
for  the  poem,  the  book,  the  lecture  delivered  under  alcoholic 
stimulus  is  never  taken  elsewhere  at  its  valuation.  The  dyn- 
amometer is  pitiless  in  its  verdict,  and  that  says  absolutely 
that  these  servants  of  ours  cannot  lift,  pull,  or  do  any  kind 
of  work  as  well  after  as  before  the  glass  of  whisky  that 
makes  one  feel — that  is  exactly  it:  apparently,  not  really — 
stronger;  for  physiological  experimentation  proves  that  alco- 
hol, in  whatever  form,  diminishes  the  sensibility  and  lessens 
the  contractility  of  germinal  matter  wherever  it  is  found. 
Dip  your  fingers  into  alcohol,  and  after  a  little  you  will  find 
them  numb  from  the  effect  of  the  alcohol  upon  the  germinal 
matter  of  the  skin,  for  it  is  this  germinal  matter  that  perpet- 
ually renews  the  loose  scales  which  make  up  the  outer  or 
scarf  skin,  which  protects  the  sensitive  nerves  and  tissues  be- 
neath. The  necessity  of  such  protection  is  shown  whenever 
the  scarf  skin  is  removed,  either  by  rubbing  or  blistering, 
and  the  sensitive  true  skin  exposed  to  the  air.  This  same  is 
seen  in  a  chapped  skin,  which  is  one  from  which  the  outer 
layer  of  epithelial  scales  has  been  removed  by  cold  or  irritat- 
ing fluids,  leaving  the  lower  and  softer  layers  to  crack  and 
bleed.  This  will  be  readily  understood  by  a  reference  to  the 
annexed  cut,  which  represents  the  different  layers  of  the  skin 
on  the  tips  of  the  fingers.  The  ends  of  the  nerves  and  the 
blood-vessels  of  the  skin  are  not  well  shown  in  the  picture, 
which  is  simply  designed  i<>  show  ihe  epidermis,  <>r  layer 


14 


Physiology  and  1Iy<jiene. 


of  dried  scales,  basement  membrane,  and  a  soft  layer  of  gran- 
ular and  germinal  matter  beneath,  constituting  the  corium, 


Section  of  the  Skix. 
a.  The  epidermis,    h.  Two  of  the  quadrangular  papillary  clumps  com- 
posed of  minute  conical  papillae,  such  as  are  seen  in  the  palm  of  the  hand 
or  the  sole  of  the  foot.    c.  Deep  layer  of  the  derma,  the  corium.   d.  Tac- 
tile corpuscle. 

or  true  skin.  Through  the  skin  pass  several  miles  of  sweat 
glands,  hereafter  to  be  described;  and  in  it  are  also  imbedded 
the  hairs,  nails,  and  sebaceous  glands. 

Hair  is  designed  to  form  an  elastic  protection  and  adorn- 
ment for  the  head.  Minute  hairs  are,  with  few  exceptions, 
also  found  every- where  upon  the  surface  of  the  body;  but 
they  are,  if  we  are  to  believe  the  evolutionists,  the  useless 
heritage  left  us  by  our  great  grandfathers,  the  apes.  A 
fine  head  of  hair  is  a  gift  to  be  proud  of,  whether  black, 
red,  or  gray;  for  the  best  art  of  man  has  never  yet  succeeded 
in  making  a  satisfactory  substitute,  and  it  never  will  until  it 
succeeds  in  making  as  exquisite  a  hair  factory  as  that  found 
in  a  hair  follicle.  A  single  hair  is  an  insignificant  thing,  ac- 
cording to  our  way  of  thinking,  but  in  the  biblical  sense  of  the 
statement  our  hairs  are  all  numbered;  for  more  care  is  shown 
in  the  arrangement  of  a  single  hair  follicle  than  in  an  elab- 


Mosaics   and  TAPESTRIES.  15 

orate  mosaic  (page  10).  First,  we  find  a  fibrous  sac  (h)  lined 
with  glassy  membrane  (</),  inside  of  which  are  set  the 
outer  and  inner  root  sheaths  (d.  e.f),  most  beautifully  con- 
structed of  cells  containing  dark  poinds  of  germinal  or  grow- 
ing matter,  and  internal  to  this  the  cuticle  of  the  hair  (<:;),  its 
cortex,  or  bark  (&),  and  its  marrow,  or  pith  (a) ;  for  hairs 
possess  marrow  no  less  than  bones.  More  properly,  it  resem- 
bles the  pith  of  a  feather,  for  it  does  not  answer  in  any  wise 
except  in  name  to  the  marrow  of  the  bones,  which  is  largely 
fat.  The  fat  of  the  hair  is  found  in  two  little  sacs,  which 
serve  a  similar  purpose  to  those  found  on  a  larger  scale  on 
the  backs  of  water-fowl,  located  at  the  base  of  each  hair 
(sebaceous  glands).  Man  is  in  reality  feathered,  although 
Plato  defined  him  as  a  "featherless  biped;"  but  with  better 
eyes  he  would  have  found  that  his  definition  was  not  scientific- 
ally correct,  for  a  hair  is  essentially  the  same  thing  as  a  feather. 
They  both  have  a  central  shaft,  a  pith,  and  a  vane  of  barbs; 
but  in  the  hair  these  encircle  the  shaft  instead  of  being  ar- 
ranged laterally  as  on  a  quill.  These  barbs  are  proportion- 
ally smaller  in  the  hair,  but  still  they  may  be  felt,  even  when 
they  cannot  be  seen,  as  is  readily  proven  by  pulling  a  horse 
hair  the  wrong  way  between  the  fingers.  The  barbs  or 
scales  of  a  human  hair  overlie  each  other  like  shingles  on  a 
roof,  and  are  unlike  those  of  other  animals.  Microscopists 
are  able,  therefore,  to  tell  with  certainty  from  what  animal 
a  hair  lias  been  taken.* 

A  hair  is  prolonged  at  one  end  into  a  sharp,  tapering  point, 
and  at  the  other  it  is  expanded  into  a  root,  or  bulb,  as  it  is 
well  named.     Each  hair  bulb  is  set  into  a  flask-shaped  pocket 

*  In  the  late  Piper  case  tried  in  Boston  the  guilt  of  the  prisoner  was 
established  by  a  single  human  hair  adhering  to  the  inside  of  the  prisoner's 
coat;  and  Gosse  relates  the  following  more  remarkable  case:  "The  knife 
of  a  prisoner  on  trial  for  murder  was  found  to  be  stained  with  blood,  which 
contained  a  single  hair.  The  prisoner  claimed  that  the  knife  had  been  used 
for  killing  pigs ;  but  the  microscope  proved  that  the  hair  was  not  a  pig's 
bristle,  but  a  squirrel's  hair;  and  as  the  little  girl  who  had  been  murdered 
had  worn  at  that  time  a  squirrel  boa,  the  chain  of  evidence  was  com- 
plete." 


16  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

or  depression  in  the  skin,  very  much  as  children  thrust  twigs 
into  soft  clay,  and  the  bottom  of  each  pocket  is  lined 
with  points  of  germinal  matter,  which  reproduce  the  hair 
continually.  Sometiiftes  nature  plays  strange  pranks  in 
planting  these  bulbs,  and  instead  of  planting  them  in  regular 
rows  sets  them  round  in  circles,  and  then  their  unfortunate 
owner  discovers,  to  his  great  annoyance,  that  he  is  the  owner 
of  a  "cowlick,"  which  requires  all  his  patience  and  pomatum 
to  keep  in  subjection.  Fright  and  cold 
may  also  produce,  on  a  small  scale,  tem- 
porary cowlicks;  for  attached  to  the  base 
of  each  of  these  hair  pockets  are  two  min- 
iature, involuntary  muscles,  by  whose  con- 
traction some  of  the  lower  animals,  as  the 
horse  and  pig,  erect  their  hair.  In  man 
these  muscles  are  only  influenced  by  cold 
or  fright,  which  produces  that  condition  of 
the  skin  known  as  "  goose-skin,"  due  to  the 
Longitudinal  section  contraction  of  these  tiny  muscles. 
rXCJTJX  A  hair,  in  its  structure,  is ss delicate  as  the 
papilla,  and  tbe  muscle  finest  feather;  and  while  it  is  exceedingly 
(museums  erector  piii).  elagtiCj  and  perfectly  adapted  for  the  pur- 
pose for  which  it  was  designed,  it  cannot  be  frizzled  and 
burnt  and  broken  without  destroying  its  beauty  and  its  life. 
A  hair  curls  for  the  same  reason  that  a  shaving  does;  namely, 
they  are  both  flattened  cylinders.  The  more  nearly  cylin- 
drical a  hair,  the  stiff er  and  straighter  it  becomes,  as  is  seen  in 
the  Indian,  while  we  find  the  opposite  extreme  in  the  negro, 
whose  hair  cylinders  are  so  much  flattened  that  they  become 
kinky  as  wool  despite  the  owner's  efforts  to  the  contrary. 

The  coloring  matter  of  the  hair  is  located  in  the  pith,  or 
central  part,  and  its  gloss  is  due  largely  to  nature's  pomatum 
pots,  two  of  which  are  attached  to  the  root  of  each  hair,  so 
that  other  dressing  for  the  hair  than  a  brisk  brushing  with  a 
stiff  brush  is  hardly  ever  required. 

All  other  applications,  unless  it  be  a  little  water  or  vaseline, 
are  untidy  or  injurious,  except  in   cases  of   diseases  of  the 


Mosaics  and  Tapestjues.  17 

scalp,  when  a  physician's  advice  should  be  taken  instead  of  an 
"almanac's  tonic."  Patent  hair  dyes  are  especially  to  be 
shunned;  for  with  very  few  exceptions  they  owe  their  value 
to  lead  salts,  and  these,  sooner  or  later,  produce  poisoning 
and  paralysis.  No  one  in  his  senses  was  ever  long  deceived 
by  dyed  hair,  although  the  attempt  is  as  old  as  the  time  of  the 
Pharaohs;  but  the  Egyptians  were  wiser  than  we,  for  they 
shaved  the  obnoxious  hair  off  from  their  heads  and  wore,  in- 
stead, wigs  dyed  to  order.  Artificial  hirsute  abominations 
date  back  to  Margaret  of  Navarre.  "  Margaret  of  Navarre," 
says  history,  "  having  through  sickness  lost  her  blonde  locks, 
cut  off  similar  ones  from  her  plebeian  subjects  and  wore  them 
instead  of  her  own."  History  repeats  itself,  and  every  town 
has  its  local  Margarets,  who  borrow  their  coiffures  or  bleach 
their  own  locks  by  means  of  peroxide  of  hydrogen,  and  there- 
by permanently  injure  their  hair.  Gray  hairs  are  a  crown 
of  glory,  says  an  excellent  authority.  Moreover,  as  yet, 
no  device  has  been  found  that  will  safely  restore  them  to 
their  original  color.  Early  gray  hairs  and  bald  heads  are 
part  of  the  price  that  is  paid  for  modern  civilization;  and 
the  only  way  to  defer  the  inevitable  is  to  keep  the  head  cool, 
occasionally  washed  free  from  dandruff  with  a  little  borax 
and  water,  and  the  hair  thoroughly  brushed  with  a  stiff 
brush  several  times  daily. 

Dandruff  is  simply  another  name  for  the  dead,  epithelial 
scales  found  every-where  on  the  surface  of  the  body;  but  be- 
ing confined  to  the  head  by  the  hair,  they  are  apt  to  accumu- 
late until  they  become  a  source  of  annoyance  to  the  possessor. 
Unless  it  arises  from  a  diseased  seal}),  dandruff  may  be 
readily  removed  by  washing  the  head  with  a  solution  of 
borax  or  salts  of  tartar,  either  of  which  readily  dissolves 
these  scales,  but  requires  that  the  scalp  should  be  washed  im- 
mediately after  with  pure  warm  water.  Similar  treatment 
will  remove  the  coating  on  the  tongue,  observed  in  many  dis- 
ordered conditions  of  the  system.  It  would  be  a  Hibernicism 
to  peak  of  this  coating  on  the  tongue  as  a  dandruff  of  the 
mouth,  but  in  reality  both  are  due  t<»  a  similar  cause;  namely. 


18  Physiology  and  IIvgiene. 

excessive  death  of  epithelial  cells,  which  in  consequence  ac- 
cumulate instead  of  being,  as  usual,  swept  away  as  fast  as 
they  die.  In  case  of  the  tongue,  the  reason  of  this  undue 
accumulation  is  congestion  of  the  membrane  lining  the 
mouth,  causing  an  increased  growth  of  the  cells  on  the  surface 
of  the  tongue,  which  remain  pasty  and  white  or  may  become 
dried  and  colored  by  the  disordered  secretions  of  the  mouth. 
The  secretions  of  the  mouth  are  as  a  rule  diminished  at  such 
times,  and  hence  are  insufficient  to  remove  the  fur,  which 
in  protracted  fevers  continues  to  increase,  unless  removed, 
adding  greatly  to  the  discomfort  of  the  sick.  There  is,  how- 
ever, no  better  reason  for  allowing  this  to  remain  in  the 
mouth  than  dirt  elsewhere  upon  the  surface  of  the  body. 
It  can  easily  be  removed  by  scraping  with  the  sharp  edge  of 
a  penknife ;  and  the  mouth  of  a  f ever  patient  should  no  more 
be  allowed  to  become  unclean  than  his  face. 

The  relation  of  a  furred  tongue  to  finger-nails  may  not  be 
apparent  unless  it  be  remembered  that  the  nails,  like  the  fur 
upon  the  tongue,  are  epithelial  scales  packed  closely  to- 
gether. With  proper  treatment  under  a  microscope  they 
can  be  shown  to  be  identical,  with,  however,  this  very  great 
difference:  the  fur  upon  the  tongue  is  dead  and  decaying 
matter,  fit  only  to  be  thrown  out  of  the  body,  while  the 
nails,  though  hardly  less  vital,  are  admirably  designed  to  pro- 
tect and  assist  the  ends  of  the  fingers  and  the  toes.  A  cut- 
ting of  nail,  even  though  it  be  not  worshiped  like  that  taken 
from  the  grand  Lama  of  Thibet,  is  well  worth  our  study. 
Examine  a  nail  under  a  high  power  microscope  and  you  will 
discover  that  it  is  made  up  of  a  multitude  of  little  scales,  so 
closely  packed  together,  like  figs  in  a  box,  that  they  are  firm 
and  solid  and  give  the  horny  appearance  to  the  nail.  Be- 
neath these  we  find  softer,  translucent  cells  (one  fifteen- 
thousandth  of  an  inch)  which  are  continually  growing  and 
producing  new  nail  at  the  root  and  the  quick;  that  at  the  root 
pushing  the  nail  forward  and  free  from  the  end  of  the  finger. 
The  cells  at  the  quick  of  the  nail  are  so  much  larger  than 
when   they   crowded   together  above  that,  to  accommodate 


Mosaics  and  Tapestries.  19 

them  all,  the  bed  of  the  nail  is  grooved  or  thrown  into  ridges 
into  which  the  nail  dove-tails,  and  thus,  like  a  ship  on  the 
ways,  is  directed  in  the  way  in  which  it  should  go.  As  long 
as  the  bed  of  the  nail  is  uninjured  it  will  reproduce  fresh 
nail,  making  an  entire  new  one  in  four  to  six  months;  but  if 
these  ridges  are  destroyed  a  straight  nail  can  never  grow  on 
that  finger  again,  although  nails  have  been  known  to  appear 
on  a  second  joint  when  the  first  has  been  removed. 

A  corn  is  an  effort  to  form  a  nail,  caused  by  the  pressure 
of  a  boot  upon  one  point  of  the  soft  tissues  beneath.  Press- 
ure crowds  the  epithelial  scales  into  a  hard  horny  mass  coni- 
cal in  shape.  Its  increase  in  size  increases  the  pressure, 
and  so  on  indefinitely  until  the  pain  becomes  exquisite. 
Every  motion  of  the  foot  seems  to  push  upon  that  especial 
spot,  not  because  that  point  is  touched  more  frequently  than 
usual,  but  simply  because  each  touch  becomes  painfully  ap- 
parent. Corns  are  the  price  we  pay  for  improperly  shaped 
boots;  for  a  savage,  having  none,  only  acquires  calloused,  or 
generally  thickened,  soles.  The  pressure  producing  a  corn  is 
on  one  point,  and  as  the  result  of  this  the  corn  con- 
stantly becomes  worse  unless  it  is  removed  by  the  chi- 
ropodist, and  some  method  is  devised  to  relieve  the  spot  from 
pressure  for  the  future.  The  proper  shape  for  the  sole  of  a 
shoe  can  be  obtained  by  placing  the  stockinged  foot  upon  a 
sheet  of  paper  and  tracing  its  outlines.  Such  a  shoe  may  not 
be  in  the  prevailing  fashion,  but  it  will  accurately  fit  the  foot 
and  make  walking  a  pleasure  instead  of  a  painful  hobbling 
after  the  Chinese  fashion.  The  feet  deserve  better  care  and 
more  frequent  attention  than  they  usually  get,  especially  in 
the  way  of  nightly  baths  and  well-fitting  shoes. 

Too  frequent  bathing  is  not  desirable  for  the  feeble  in 
a  northern  climate;  but  a  foot-bath,  with  mustard  or  salt 
if  the  circulation  is  poor,  will  do  much  to  do  away  with  cold 
feet,  headache,  and  sleeplessness.  Much  of  the  general  lack 
of  enjoyment  of  health  among  well-to-do  people  comes  from 
the  clogging  of  the  pores  of  the  skin  by  an  effort  on  its  part  to 
do  the  work  of  other  organs.    A  shining,  greasy,  pasty-looking 


20  Physiology  and  Hygiem:. 

skin  means  this,  and  requires  a  change  in  the  mode  of  living — 
more  fully  to  be  discussed  under  secretiou  and  excretion — or 

the  complexion  will  be  irretrievably  ruined  in  spite  of  all  pow- 
ders and  cosmetics.  So  dainty  a  piece  of  mosaic  cannot  be 
powdered,  rouged,  and  white-leaded  with  impunity.  The 
best  cosmeties  are  a  healthy  liver,  good  food,  fresh  air,  and 
frequent  bathing  of  the  face  with  soft  water  or  that  contain- 
ing almond  meal. 

A  broken  skin  fortunately  mends  itself,  for  germinal 
matter  attends  to  that.  If  the  general  health  of  the  body 
is  well  preserved  there  is  a  perpetual  renewing,  or  relay- 
ing of  the  epithelial  mosaic  by  these  tiny,  glassy  points; 
moreover,  when  this  is  destroyed  or  injured,  as  by  a  cut  or 
burn,  in  a  very  brief  time  these  same  tireless  workers  pour 
out  a  colorless  glue  which  covers  the  wounded  spot,  and  under 
which,  unless  the  injury  has  been  too  great,  a  new  layer  forms. 
The  most  that  the  most  expert  surgeon  can  do  in  such  cases  is 
to  imitate  Ambroise  Pare,  who  said  of  his  work,  "I  salve  and 
God  heals."  All  that  antiseptic  or  any  other  surgery  can  do 
is  to  prevent  external  causes  hindering  this  healing  process. 
How  fibril  is  joined  to  fibril  and  nerve  to  nerve  we  do  not  as 
yet  know;  but  it  seems  as  if  each  sort  of  germinal  matter 
reached  out  and  joined  itself  to  its  own  kind.  At  all  events, 
somehow  or  other,  unless  irritated  by  the  microscopic  germs 
every-where  floating  in  the  air,  this  union  takes  place,  and  we 
have  now  what  is  known  as  a  cicatrix,  or  sea?',  denser  and  firmer 
than  the  original  tissue.  It  is,  in  fact,  a  seam  put  into  the 
torn  tapestries  with  a  finer  than  human  skill,  but  still  a  seam, 
and,  like  all  seams,  thicker  and  not  so  perfect  as  the  original 
fabric.  Still,  it  is  vastly  better  than  an  unseemly  rent,  or  an 
aching  cut,  and  is  the  best  that  can  be  done  under  the  cir- 
cumstances. Now,  if  for  any  reason  the  germinal  matter  is 
unable  to  piece  together  the  hole,  there  is  left  a  running  sore, 
which  when  of  lone  standing  is  one  of  the  most  difficult 
things  in  the  world  to  heal,  for  the  reason  that  the  germinal 
matter  at  its  base  devotes  itself  to  manufacturing  white  cor- 
puscles  (pus)    instead    of    plastic   lymph.     Germinal    matter 


Mosaics  and  Tapestries.  21 

like  men  may  get  into  bad  habits,  and  one  of  these  is  the 
secretion  of  pus,  or  matter,  as  we  ordinarily  call  it,  from  a 
healing  surface. 

Cartilage  and  connective  tissue  next  deserve  our  attention, 
for  in  them  we  find  how  germinal  matter  binds  together  the 
different  parts  of  the  body;  and  nowhere  can  we  find  daintier 
work  than  that  done  by  germinal  matter  in  fibro-cartilage, 
as  it  is  called,  or  that  gristly  material  which  ties  together  cer- 
tain of  the  bones  of  the  body.  We  find  (beneath  the  micro- 
scope) that  this  unsightly  material  has  as  exquisite  a  design 
and  finish  as  the  finest  Florentine  mosaic.  Or  perhaps  it  can 
be  better  likened  to  a  pictured  tapestry.  In  fact,  its  name  ex- 
presses as  much;  for  it  is  one  of  the  tissues  of  the  body,  and 
a  tissue  is  something  woven.  These  tissues  are  well  named; 
for  they  possess  scarcely  less  beauty,  and  more  utility,  than 
the  famous  Gobelin  hangings.  The  anatomists  call  these  tap- 
estries, or  tissues,  by  various  names,  such  as  areolar,  elastic, 
connective,  etc.,  each  of  which  has  its  peculiar  excellence  and 
beauty.  The  most  widely  used  of  these  hangings  is  the 
areolar,  connective  tissue,  so  called  because  it  is  honey-combed 
with  small  openings,  or  areas,  connecting  with  each  other. 
This  elastic  packing  fills  every  nook  and  cranny  of  the  body, 
and  encircles  its  every  organ  so  completely  that  if  in 
any  way  all  else  could  be  dissolved  away,  the  connective 
tissue  would  still  form  a  ghost-like  model  of  the  body 
complete  in  all  its  parts,  and  bearing  about  the  same  rela- 
tion to  a  man  that  skeletonized  leaves  do  to  a  green  tree. 
Beautiful  as  such  a  body  might  be,  it  would  be  as  useless  as 
the  "'baseless  fabric  of  a  dream,"  for  all  practical  purposes. 
A  body  composed  entirely  of  connective  tissue  would  be  as 
unsatisfactory  as  one  composed  of  twine;  but,  rightly  joined 
and  fitted  to  the  other  parts,  connective  tissue  is  as  invalua- 
ble as  cordage  on  shipboard,  and  it  is  as  variously  modified 
to  meet  its  various  requirements  as  is  a  ship's  rigging. 

Now  this  areolar,  connective  tissue,  or  that  resembling 
honey-comb,  is,  like  honey-comb,  filled  with  fluid  (serum). 
Like  every  tiling  else  in  the  body,  this  tissue  fluid — which 


22  Physiology   and   Hygienb. 

closely  resembles  the  watery  part  of  the  blood  —  has  its 
duty  to  perform;  namely,  to  moisten  the  five  hundred  odd 
muscles  and  their  sheaths,  which  otherwise  would  rasp  them- 
selves to  pieces  over  each  other  or  the  bones  to  which  they 
are  attached.  (The  absence  of  this  fluid,  conjoined  with 
wasting  of  the  muscles,  gives  us  the  pitiable  objects  known 
as  living  skeletons,  who  make  a  scanty  living  by  exhibiting 
themselves  at  dime  museums.  Excess  of  this  fluid  consti- 
tutes dropsy,  a  hardly  less  unfortunate  condition.) 

Again,  this  connective  tissue  is  not  unlike  the  coarse  paper 
laid  beneath  our  carpets,  and  between  the  siding  of  a  house, 
in  thin,  elastic  sheets,  serving  as  protection  and  packing  for 
the  odd  nooks  and  corners  that  need  filling  up  for  symmetry. 
Otherwise  the  "  form  divine  "  would  be  as  angular  as  a  Vir- 
ginia rail  fence.  The  structure  of  the  body's  sheet  wadding 
(to  use  the  name  given  by  dressmakers  to  a  substance  similarly 
employed  to  help  out  Nature's  deficiencies)  varies  according  to 
the  especial  use  to  which  it  is  to  be  put;  but  it  is  essentially  a 
web  of  fine,  wavy,  white,  inelastic  fibers  (one  four-thousandth 
to  one  forty-thousandth  of  an  inch  in  diameter),  crossed  by  a 
greater  or  less  number  of  coarser,  yellow,  elastic  fibers,  and 
according  as  the  first  or  second  of  these  predominates  we 
have  what  is  known  as  white  fibrous  or  yellow  elastic  tissue. 
Where  the  first  of  these  is  used  for  muscle  sheathing,  it  is 
called  fasc la,  from  the  Latin  word  for  bandage;  and  an  ex- 
cellent name  it  is,  for  it  well  expresses  the  care  with  which 
these  bundles  of  muscles  are  swathed.  We  admire  the  inge- 
nuity and  the  almost  endless  yards  of  bandaging  employed 
by  the  Egyptians  in  preparing  their  mummies;  but  even 
greater  care  has  been  used  in  enveloping  not  only  each  limb, 
but  every  muscle  as  well,  of  the  body.  Each  of  these  has  its 
separate  bandage  or  sheath,  which  differs  somewhat  as  it 
is  found  near  the  surface  of  the  body  or  deeper.  The  ex- 
ternal or  superficial  fascia  lie  near  the  surface,  and  consist  of 
moist,  loose  layers  of  connective  tissue,  while  that  which 
lies  below  is  often  woven  into  intricate  layers. 

Connective  tissue,  when  long  boiled,  yields  a  transparent 


Mosaics  and  Tapestries.  23 

substance  known  as  gelatine,  largely  used  in  making  artificial 
jelly.  In  addition  the  chemist  finds  in  it  a  small  percentage 
of  inorganic  salts  and  a  large  proportion  of  water;  for  connec- 
tive tissue,  like  all  the  other  soft  parts  of  the  body,  is  com- 
posed mainly  of  water.  More  than  half  (sixty-one  per  cent.) 
of  the  weight  of  a  healthy  body  is  due  to  the  water  which  it 
contains,  and  when  this  is  removed  by  drying,  or  age,  the 
skin  naturally  shrinks  and  wrinkles.  Wrinkles  are  inevita- 
ble with  age;  but  it  is  entirely  within  our  power  to  decide 
whether  they  shall  be  lines  of  content  and  happiness  or 
moroseness,  for  wrinkling  takes  place  in  line  of  the  greatest 
wasting  of  the  facial  muscles.  Hence,  one  preserver  of 
the  form  divine  proposes  to  obviate  this  by  washing  and 
rubbing  the  face  up  instead  of  down  as  is  usually  prac- 
ticed. Possibly  this  and  chewing  chamois  leather,  as  is 
also  proposed  by  the  same  artist,  may  put  off  the  evil 
day;  but  a  second  fountain  of  youth  would  be  required  to 
prevent  the  wasting  of  fatty  tissue,  which  sooner  or  later 
comes  with  advancing  age. 

Germinal  matter,  like  every  thing  else,  at  last  loses  its  vital- 
ity. In  early  life,  so  long  as  protoplasm  is  supplied  with 
proper  food,  there  seems  to  be  hardly  any  limit  to  its  powers 
of  multiplication.  During  all  these  years  the  body  con- 
stantly increases  in  height  and  weight.  Then  there  comes  a 
period  when  germinal  matter  just  suffices  to  supply  the 
waste  of  the  body.  These  are  the  years  in  which  the 
debtor  and  creditor  accounts  of  the  body  in  composition  and 
decomposition  exactly  balance  each  other,  or  the  sum  of  all 
the  weights  of  the  substances  leaving  the  body  exactly 
equal  the  weight  of  all  the  ingesta,  or  substances,  including 
air,  taken  into  the  body.  At  last  there  comes  a  time  when 
germinal  matter  is  unable  to  fully  repair  the  losses  of  the 
body,  and  then  follow  laxity  of  fiber,  watery  blood,  and 
pallor  of  the  lace.  "We  all  do  fade  as  a  leaf,"  and  from 
exactly  the  same  cause — namely,  failing  protoplasmic  activity; 
which  finally  by  the  wisdom  of  its  Creator  brings  us  to  the 
time  "  when  the  keepers  of   the  house;  shall   tremble,  and   the 


24 


Physiology  and   Hygiene. 


strong  men  shall  bow  themselves,  and  the  grinders  cease  be- 

cause  they  arc  Pew,  and  those  that  look  out  of  the  windows 
be  darkened,  and  the  doors  shall  be  shut  in  the  streets,  when 
the  sound  of  the  grinding  is  low.  .  .  .  and  the  almond  tree 
shall  flourish,  and  the  grasshopper  shall  be  a  burden,  and 
desire  shall  fail:  because  man  goeth  to  his  long  home.  .  .  . 
Then  shall  the  dust  return  to  the  earth  as  it  was:  and  the 
snirit  shall  return  unto  God  who  gave  it." 


mfr 


Rameses  II.  of  Egypt. 

The  only  apparent  exemption  from  the  flat,  "  dust  to  dust,'1  is  found  in 
the  case  of  the  Egyptian  mummies,  which  have  been  preserved  by  the 
care  of  their  embalmers  for  thousands  of  years.  The  most  interesting  of 
all  these  is  the  mummy  of  Rameses  II.,  recently  discovered,  and  identified 
by  Professor  Maspero,  by  its  inscriptions,  as  the  Pharaoh  who  oppressed 
the  Israelites  and  made  their  lives  bitter  with  hard  bondage  in  mortar 
and  in  brick.  The  body  is  that  of  an  old  man,  for  Rameses  "must  have 
been  nearly  a  hundred  years  old  when  he  died,  but  even  under  the  some- 
what grotesque  disguise  of  mummification  there  is  plainly  to  be  seen  an 
air  of  sovereign  majesty,  of  resolve  and  pride.1'— Maspero. 


Beams,  Raftees,  Cushions,  and  Seevants.         25 


CHAPTER  II. 

BEAMS,  RAFTERS,  CUSHIONS,  AND  SERVANTS. 

Sydney  Smith  wished  in  hot  weather  to  take  off  his 
flesh  and  skin  and  let  the  breezes  blow  through  his  bare 
bones,  but  he  was  a  good  physician  as  well  as  a  witty  clergy- 
man, so  that  a  skeleton  had  for  him  none  of  the  horrors  that 
it  has  for  those  unused  to  its  sight.  It  ought  to  call  to  mind 
no  thoughts  of  "  some  charnel-house  o'er-covered  quite  with 
dead  men's  rattling  bones,"  but  rather  wonder  and  admi- 
ration for  the  divine  skill  which  so  wisely  planned  the 
beams  and  rafters  of  the  house  in  which  we  live.  A  skel- 
eton literally  means  something  dry,  and  such  it  appears  to 
the  majority  of  students  of  anatomy  and  histology,  but  there 
is  much  to  be  learned  and  remembered  from  even  an  old 
bone.  There  may  cluster  about  old  bones  some  of  our  hap- 
piest recollections:  Bible  stories  of  the  bones  of  the  patri- 
archs; of  Joseph's  bones,  carried,  by  the  children  of  Israel 
during  all  their  forty  years  of  wandering;  of  the  jawbone 
with  which  Samson  smote  the  Philistines;  Elisha's  bones,  and 
the  dead  man;  of  Tamerlane's  famous  pile  of  skulls;  the  bones 
of  the  eleven  thousand  virgins  at  Cologne,  and  many  more. 
Geologically  they  nave  taught  us  all  we  know  concerning 
the  strange  monsters,  the  Megalosaurus,  Dinotherium,  Cheiro- 
therium,  Pliosaurus,  and  Pterodactyl.  Of  these  we  have  but 
some  bits  of  broken  bones  left,  but  from  them  the  geologist 
has  conjured  up  weirder  monsters  and  stranger  scenes  than 
ever  came  from  opium  or  hasheesh.  Or,  if  you  are  math- 
ematically  inclined,  there  lies  before  you  a  whole  calculus  of 
possible  problems  respecting  the  mechanics  and  building  to- 
gether  of  these  two  hundred  and  forty  timbers  all  fitly  joined 
together  by  the  Master-builder.     Like  the  rest  of  his  work,  it 


26  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

is  well  clone  and  without  haste,  for  it  takes  nearly  thirty-five 
years  to  complete  all  of  the  bones  of  the  body.  If  Flourens's 
rule  is  correct,  that  one  fifth  of  an  animal's  life  is  occupied  in 
the  ossification  of  its  cartilages,  we  ought  to  live  at  least  one 
hundred  and  fifty  years,  but  as  a  rule  man  rarely  attains  to  the 
Psalmist's  threescore  and  ten.  Statistics  on  this  subject  have 
only  been  recently  kept,  but  there  is  nevertheless  a  gratify- 
ing increase  in  the  average  life-time  of  man.  In  the  sixteenth 
century  the  average  longevity  at  Geneva  was  only  21.2 
years.  In  1603  the  English  government  found  it  could  profit- 
ably sell  life  annuities  based  on  an  average  expectation  of  life 
of  26.5  years  only.  Ninety-seven  years  later,  they  were 
obliged  to  raise  this  to  33.9  years  to  avoid  loss,  and  again  in 
1871  this  was  again  increased  to  41,  so  that  for  Englishmen 
at  least  the  span  of  life  is  lengthening.  In  fact,  many  if  not 
most  of  their  prominent  men  are  still  hard  at  work  at  an  age 
that  a  century  ago  would  have  been  expected  to  have  laid 
them  in  retirement,  if  not  actually  in  their  graves. 

Bancroft,  Bismarck,  Gladstone,  De  Lesseps,  N.  S.  Davis, 
are  all  in  years,  past  what  was  once  supposed  to  be  the  age 
of  efficient  work,  yet  each  of  them  stands  to-day  easily  at 
the  head  of  his  particular  line  of  work.  John  Quincy 
Adams,  Benjamin  Franklin,  Brougham,  Disraeli  and  Palmer- 
ston  are  all  instances  that  a  man's  efficiency  need  not  be 
measured  by  his  years,  for  all  of  these  did  their  best  work 
when  past  seventy.  Worry,  fret  and  debt  do  more  to  age 
men  than  intellectual  work.  We  hear  much  of  youthful 
genius,  but  a  careful  analysis,  by  the  late  Dr.  Beard,  of  the 
life-work  of  the  thousand  men  who  have  been  the  leaders  in 
the  world's  thought  and  activity  shows  that  their  greatest 
efficiency  has  been  between  forty  and  fifty,  or,  as  Dr.  Beard 
puts  it,  "the  bronze  age  for  man  is  between  twenty  and 
thirty,  his  golden  from  forty  to  fifty,  his  iron  from  fifty  to 
sixty;  but  if  a  man  in  good  health  would  forget  his  age  he 
will  be  likely  to  run  far  over  his  seventieth  year  before  he 
finds  his  mind  or  body  burdened  with  years."  More  men 
fret  out  or  rust  out  than  wear  out,  and  the  surest  way  to 


Beams,  Rafters,  Cushions,  and  Servants.         27 

reach  ninety  years  is  to  find  engrossing  work  which  keeps  at 
exercise  every  faculty  of  mind  and  body.  "  A  man  may  be 
old  at  forty,  or  he  may  be  young  at  seventy,  and  there  seems 
to  be  no  surer  way  of  growing  old  than  determining  at  some 
set  time  to  quit  the  active  employment  to  which  he  has  long 
been  accustomed." 

"  Nevertheless,  from  the  elaborate  tables  drawn  up  by  Dr. 
Farr  it  would  seem  there  are  certain  very  critical  periods  in 
life.  A  baby,  for  instance,  has  but  one  chance  in  five  of 
growing  up.  The  period  between  the  tenth  and  the  fifteenth 
years,  exclusively,  is  that  in  which  the  death  average  is  the 
smallest.  At  about  thirty-five  we  must  begin  to  take  care 
of  ourselves.  At  this  period  constitutional  changes  set  in  ; 
our  hair  and  teeth  begin  to  fail  us  ;  our  digestion  is  no  longer 
what  it  used  to  be  ;  we  lose  the  vigor  of  youth  and  neglect 
out-door  exercise  ;  above  all,  the  cares  of  life  begin  to  make 
themselves  perceptibly  felt.  It  is  at  this  time  that  deaths 
from  suicide  take  a  marked  place  in  the  returns  of  mortality, 
and  there  is  also  considerable  reason  to  believe  that  habits  of 
intemperance  are  apt  to  suddenly  develop  themselves.  It 
appears,  moreover,  that  if  a  man  tides  over  his  fiftieth  year 
he  may  make  tolerably  certain  of  living  to  seventy,  while  if 
he  reaches  his  seventy -fifth  year  there  is  very  strong  pre- 
sumption that  he  will  either  turn  his  •  ninetieth  birthday  or 
very  near  it." 

The  growth  of  the  human  body,  like  that  of  a  tree,  is  not 
the  same  for  all  seasons  of  the  year,  being  greatest  in  growing 
children  in  June,  July,  and  August,  as  proven  by  the  careful 
examinations  of  the  children  in  the  Danish  deaf  and  dumb 
institutes. 

"  Each  child  was  weighed  four  times  a  day — in  the  morn- 
ing, before  dinner,  after  dinner,  and  in  the  evening  ;  and 
was  measured  once.  These  daily  records  show  that,  contrary 
to  general  opinion,  the  increase  in  weight  and  height  of  the 
human  body  during  the  years  of  growth  does  not  progress 
evenly  throughout  the  year.  Three  distinct  periods  were 
observed,  and  smaller  variations  were  noticeable  within  these 


28  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

divisions.  In  bulk,  the  period  of  maximum  increase  extends 
from  August  to  December.  A  period  of  equipoise  then  suc- 
ceeds until  the  middle  of  April,  and  the  following  minimum 
period  completes  the  year.  The  lasting  increase  in  weight 
occurs  during  the  first  period  ;  the  period  of  equipoise  adds 
about  one  fourth  of  that  increase,  but  this  is  almost  entirely 
spent  during  the  last  period. 

"  The  increase  in  height  shows  a  similar  division  into  peri- 
ods, but  in  a  reverse  order.  In  September  and  October  a  child 
grows  only  a  fifth  of  what  it  did  in  June  and  July.  Thus  in 
the  autumn  and  early  winter  a  child  increases  in  weight, 
while  the  height  remains  stationary.  In  the  early  summer, 
on  the  contrary,  the  weight  changes  but  little,  while  the  vital 
force  and  nourishment  are  directed  toward  an  increase  in 
height." 

There  also  is  a  fixed  relation  between  weight  and  height, 
as  proved  by  Dr.  John  Hutchinson,  who  collected  the  height 
and  weight  of  upward  of  five  thousand  persons.  The  follow- 
ing table,  according  to  his  calculation,  shows  the  relation 
which  should  exist  between  height  and  weight  in  a  healthy 
person.     A  man  measuring 

5  feet  1  inch  should  weigh 120  pounds. 

5  feet  2  inches  "  125  " 

5  feet  3  inches  "  133  " 

6  feet  4  inches  "  139  " 

5  feet  5  inches  "  142  " 

5  feet  6  inches  "  145  " 

5  feet  1  inches  "  148  " 

5  feet  8  inches  "  155  " 

5  feet  9  inches  "  162  " 

5  feet  10  inches  "  169  " 

5  feet  11  inches  "  174        " 

6  feet  " 178        " 


♦ 


Or  we  may  very  much  simplify  Dr.  Hutchinson's  table,  and 
say  that,  as  a  rule,  a  man's  weight  increases  at  the  rate  of 
five  pounds  for  every  inch  of  height,  and  this  rule  holds  good 
for  all  practical  purposes. 


Beams,  Rafters,  Cushions,  and  Servants.        29 

Upon  the  average,  boys  at  birth  weigh  a  little  more,  and 
girls  a  little  less,  than  six  pounds  and  a  half.  For  the  first 
twelve  years  the  two  sexes  continue  nearly  equal  in  weight, 
but  beyond  that  time  males  acquire  a  decided  preponderance. 
Thus,  young  men  of  twenty  average  about  143  pounds 
each,  while  the  young  women  of  twenty  average  120  pounds. 
Men  reach  their  heaviest  bulk  at  about  thirty-five,  when  they 
average  about  152  pounds;  but  women  slowly  increase  in 
weight  until  fifty,  when  their  average  is  about  128  pounds. 
Taking  men  and  women  together,  their  weight  at  full  growth 
averages  about  twenty  times  as  heavy  as  they  were  on  the 
first  day  of  their  existence.  Men  range  from  108  to  220 
pounds,  and  women  from  88  to  207  pounds.  The  actual 
weight  of  human  nature,  taking  the  averages  of  ages  and 
conditions— nobles,  clergy,  tinkers,  tailors,  maidens,  boys, 
girls,  and  babies,  all  included — is  very  nearly  100  pounds. 
These  figures  are  given  in  avoirdupois  weight;  but  the  ad- 
vocates of  the  superiority  of  women  might  make  a  nice 
point  by  introducing  the  rule  that  women  be  weighed 
by  troy  weight — like  other  jewels — and  men  by  avoirdupois. 
The  figures  will  then  stand:  young  men  of  twenty,  143  pounds 
each;  young  women  of  twenty,  about  146  pounds  each. 

According  to  Huxley,  "The  normal  man's  weight  is  154 
pounds,  namely :  Muscles  and  their  appurtenances,  68 
pounds  ;  skeleton,  24  pounds  ;  skin,  10^  pounds  ;  fat,  28 
pounds  ;  brain,  3  pounds  ;  thoracic  viscera,  3|-  pounds;  ab- 
dominal viscera,  10  pounds,  and  blood  which  would  drain 
from  the  body,  7  pounds.  The  heart  of  such  a  man 
should  beat  75  times  a  minute,  and  he  should  breathe  15 
times  in  the  same  space.  In  24  hours  he  would  vitiate 
1,750  cubic  feet  of  air  to  the  extent  of  one  per  cent.  He 
would  throw  off  by  the  skin  18  ounces  of  water,  300  grajns 
of  solid  matter,  and  400  grains  of  carbonic  acid  gas  daily; 
and  his  total  loss  for  the  same  time  ought  to  be  6  pounds 
of  water  and  a  little  more  than  2  pounds  of  other 
matter." 

Each  bone  of  the  skeleton  is  securely  wrapped  in  perios- 


30  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

tenm  which  looks  very  much  like  a  dense  sheet  of  bluish- 
white  rubber,  in  which  are  safely  packed  the  blood-vessels 
which  nourish  the  bone.  As  it  is  peeled  off  from  the  bone  it 
is  dotted  all  over  its  lower  surface  with  red  points,  which  are 
the  bleeding  ends  of  these  minute  vessels  wThich  were  torn 
into  as  the  periosteum  was  stripped  off. 

Bone  that  has  been  thus  treated  dies.  And  why?  Be- 
cause when  its  periosteum  is  taken  away  you  take  away  its 
nourishment,  and  there  is  nothing  left  for  the  bojie  except 
starvation,  and  to  have  its  corpse  pushed  out  of  your  body — 
very  likely  killing  you  in  the  operation;  for  nature's  method 
for  the  removal  of  dead  bone  is  exceedingly  slow  and  ex- 
hausting; hence  the  surgeon  takes  great  pains  to  open  as 
early  as  possible  a  felon,  lest  the  matter  imprisoned  beneath 
the  periosteum  cause  the  death  of  the  bone.  Furthermore, 
it  has  been  found  that  the  periosteum  not  only  furnishes  the 
bone  food  and  clothes  at  once,  but,  when  required,  a  glue  also, 
better  than  Hilton's  Insoluble  or  Spalding's  Patent.  If  you 
snap  a  bone,  it  is  the  periosteum  that  helps  to  glue  it  togeth- 
er again,  and  after  it  is  thus  glued  the  bone  is  stronger  just 
there  than  before  it  was  broken.  There  are,  however,  sev- 
eral practical  objections  to  strengthening  bones  in  this  way, 
the  chief  of  which  is  that  the  bone  is  very  aj)t  to  be  shorter 
after  the  operation,  even  though  the  best  of  doctors  has  had 
his  fingers  in  its  setting;  so  that,  on  the  whole,  it  is  better  to 
have  weaker  bones  than  to  limp.  Periosteum  ends  just  be- 
fore it  comes  to  the  joints,  and  for  good  reason  this  is  so.  In 
the  joint  we  do  not  want  two  rough,  elastic  substances,  full 
of  blood-vessels,  grinding  against  each  other  every  time  the 
joint  is  moved;  so  here  we  find  periosteum  replaced  by  what 
is  known  as  joint  cartilage.  This  somewhat  resembles  peri- 
osteum in  its  general  appearance,  but  is  thinner,  without 
blood-vessels,  and  as  smooth  as  ice.  But  even  these  polished 
surfaces  would  grow  rough,  as  a  creaky  hinge  does,  if  they 
were  not  kept  oiled,  so  to  speak.  Perhaps  moistened  would 
be  a  better  word,  for  the  surfaces  of  the  large  joints  are 
constantly  kept  slippery  with  a  substance  veiy  like  the  white 


Beams,  Rafters,  Cushions,  and  Servants.  31 

of  an  egg;  in  fact,  that  is  just  what  its  name,  synovia  (from 
the  Greek),  means.  The  joints  are  kept  in  running  order  by 
means  of  a  broad  band  which  surrounds  the  joint  from  peri- 
osteum to  periosteum,  from  which  it  gets  a  plentiful  sup- 
ply of  blood;  and  this  fine  fringe  is  kept  dripping  with  syno- 
via, and  the  blood-vessels  are  thus  kept  out  of  harm's  way. 
The  cartilages  are  a  large,  useful,  and  important  part  of  the 
body.  They  are  all  elastic,  tough,  and  flexible — in  a  word, 
"  rubbery  "  would  describe  their  family  characteristics.  And 
so,  knowing  what  these  are,  it  may  be  easily  surmised  where 
you  will  meet  with  cartilage;  for  in  this  house  of  ours  we 
find  the  materials  are  put  just  where  their  qualities  are  most 
needed.  For  instance,  have  you  a  nose  that  is  fated  every 
now  and  then  to  get  a  most  unwelcome  blow?  A  solid 
bone  nose  could  have  been  made  more  ornamental,  but  it 
would  certainly  have  been  cracked  or  knocked  off  every  time 
we  fell  on  our  faces.  Nature  knew  very  well  what  she  was 
about  when  she  made  the  lower  end  of  the  nose  of  cartilage, 
so  that  we  have,  as  it  were,  a  rubber  nose  tacked  on  the  end 
of  a  Socratic  bone  one;  and  now  this  nose  of  ours  can  be 
bent  and  tweaked  and  banged  to  a  considerable  degree  with- 
out injury. 

Some  one  thinks  he  has  discovered  that  all  noses  are  bent 
to  one  side  or  the  other,  according  as  we  are  right  or  left- 
handed.  This  man  must  be  a  Yankee;  for,  arguing  that  if 
the  continued  use  of  a  soft  handkerchief  can  so  twist  the 
nose  why  should  not  an  iron  instrument  do  so  still  more,  he 
therefore  has  invented  an  instrument  to  correct  unhandsome 
noses.  Every  one,  therefore,  who  has  a  nose  "like  flower 
atilt " — which  is  the  Tennysonian  for  pug — or  crooked  nose, 
or  flat,  and  would  have  an  aquiline,  etc.,  may  purchase  one  of 
this  man's  machines  and  have  his  nose  grow  into  the  desired 
shape,  provided  he  is  willing  to  wear  one  of  the  machines 
daily  as  long  as  it  can  be  endured.  A  long  nose  is  said  to 
denote,  power,  merit,  and  ability;  a  straight  nose  justice, 
■erionsnesg,  and  energy;  a  Roman  nose  a  propensity  for  ad- 
venture.    A  cleft  nose  is  a  mark  of  benevolence;  a  wide  one, 


32  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

with  an  open  nostril,  of  sensuality;  a  curved  fleshy  nose 
of  domination  and  cruelty,  and  the  curved  thin  nose 
accompanies  a  brilliant  mind,  but  vain,  and  disposed  to  be 
ironical.  At  least  so  claims  the  author  of  La  Science  en 
Famille,  but  more  likely  our  noses  betoken  the  characters  of 
our  grandfathers  than  our  own;  if  they  have  any  value  at  all 
in  that  direction. 

But  to  return  to  cartilages:  some  of  which  are  bluish  white, 
others  are  clear  or  glassy,  while  in  another  there  are  white 
or  yellow  fibers;  but  they  are  all  cartilages. 

Of  all  cartilages,  "  glassy  "  or  hyaline  is  the  most  interest- 
ing. It  might  be  well  named  "  baby  bone,"  for  bones  begin 
as  cartilage.  Strictly  speaking,  a  baby  has  no  bones,  only 
soft,  gristly  cartilages;  so  that  the  blessed  baby  can  give  itself 
with  safety  many  a  bump  that  would  put  its  grandmother  to 
bed  with  broken  bones.  Nature  quietly  works  away  at  these 
cartilages  for  twenty  years  and  more,  and  if  you  will  let  her 
she  will  make  a  set  of  bones  of  which  you  may  be  proud. 
You  must  not  work  against  her,  nor  hurry  her,  for  during  all 
this  time  your  bones  are  more  or  less  flexible,  and  will  bend 
under  continued  pressure.  For  instance,  a  fond  mother  is 
very  anxious  that  her  baby  should  walk;  his  little  limbs  are 
not  strong  enough  to  support  him,  and  very  soon  his  knees 
bend  out,  his  toes  turn  in,  and  a  bow-legged  son  will  be  the 
price  the  mother  must  pay  for  her  foolish  ambition.  The 
Chinese  make  hideous  little  dwarfs  for  beggars  by  putting 
their  children,  when  about  three  or  four  years  of  age,  into  a 
large  porcelain  vase,  from  which  they  are  only  removed  at 
night  and  returned  at  morning,  until  they  break  the  jar  by 
their  size.  The  child's  sufferings  are  as  horrible  as  they 
are  while  forming  the  useless  and  hideous  feet  of  the 
Chinese  ladies,  which  are  made  by  binding  the  heel  of  the 
foot  while  small  against  the  ankle,  so  that  the  child  practi- 
cally stands  on  its  toes.  This  is  continued  until  the  foot 
atrophies  in  this  shape  and  the  Chinese  lady  is  left  a  totter- 
ing cripple,  perched  on  the  tops  of  her  great  toes.  This  is 
possible  because  the  bones  are  first  laid  down  as  glassy  car- 


Beams,  Rafters,  Cushions,  and  Servants.         33 

tilages   which  can  be  altered   by  pressure.      Nature   takes 
her  time  in    changing   this    into   bone.     If  the  work  were 
all  done  during  the  first  few  weeks  of  babyhood,  we  should 
live  either  as  dwarfs,  or  with  bones  so  small  that  they  would 
be  lost  in  the  muscles.     But  Nature  can  afford  to  wait  long 
enough  to  properly  subdivide  her  work.     For  instance,  she 
proportions  out  the  sacrum,  or  lower  part  of  the  backbone 
into  no  less  than  thirty-five  sections,  and  wisely,  for  as  yet 
she  does  not  know  what  we  are  to  be,  so  leaves  these  provi- 
sional bits  of  cartilage  to  be  transformed  into  such  bones 
as  required.     The  time  comes  when  rubbery  cartilage  will  no 
longer  do  us  for  bone,  and  having  proportioned  out  the  work 
it  goes  on  somewhat  as  follows.     The  microscope  shows  us 
that  those  cells  which  are  nearest  the  first  point  of  ossifica- 
tion, or  the  spot  selected  for  beginning  the  bone-making, 
begin  to  be  disturbed,  and  their  nuclei  (germinal  matter) 
have  each  an  internal  war  which  results  in  the  cell  splitting 
into   halves,   which   crowd   toward    the    first    point.       But 
these  halves  do  not  get  there  before  they  have  another  seces- 
sion, and  split  again.     And  so  these  cells  keep  splitting,  until 
that  part  of  cartilage  which  is  selected  for  making  true  bone 
is  packed  full  of  these  split  cells.     The  minute  blood-vessels 
which  have  worked  their  way  up  among  these  cells  begin  to 
protect  themselves  by  straining  out  through  their  walls  a 
soft  chalky  substance,  which  fills  up  these  cells  every -where, 
except  at  the  nuclei,  which  say,  "  thus  far  and  no  farther." 
Thus   the   original  flexible   cartilage  becomes  stiffened  by 
the  deposition  of  lime-salts  about  its  points  of  germinal  matter, 
or  osteoblasts,  as  they  are  called  in  bone  cartilage,  until  at  last 
man  possesses  a  perfectly  formed  bony  skeleton,  unless  he 
has  distorted  it  by  carelessness  or  abuse. 

The  skeleton  is  essentially  an  irregular  conical  cage,  with  the 
lower  part  of  its  front  gone,  and  at  its  bottom  a  shallow  basin 
(the  pelvis).  Attached  to  the  top  of  this  cage  is  the  neck  and 
skull;  to  its  sides  the  limbs,  upper  and  lower,  with  their  long 
bones,  short  bones,  and  irregular.  The  long  bones  consist  of 
a  hollow  shaft  whose  ends  broaden  out  into  flat,  articulating 
2* 


34 


Physiology  and  Hygiene. 


surfaces,  which  contain  within  them  what  is  known  as  latticed 
bone  (cancellated),  a  sort  of  spongy  bone  which  is  found 
wherever  large  surfaces  of  bone  and  lightness  are  required 
at  the  same  time.  A  cross  section  of  this  latticed  bone 
looks  as  if  it  were  composed  of  a  multitude  of  tiny  bone 
needles  thrown  together,  like  jack-straws,  by  the  merest 
chance.  But  nothing  has  been  done  after  that  fashion  in 
this  house  of  ours,  not  even  this  apparently  accidental 
net- work  of  bone  needles,  for,  says  Dr.  Jeffries  Wyman,  an 
excellent  authority  on  this  subject,  the  fibers  of  cancellated 
bone  are  "  so  skillfully  braced  that  they  alone  would  be  suffi- 
cient to  prove  that  man  naturally  assumes  an  upright  position." 
Standing  upright  is  not  as  simple  a  thing  as  it  seems.  It 
would  be  quite  impossible  in  a  boneless  body,  or  in  one 
where  the  bones  are  softened,  as  they  sometimes  become  in  a 

rare  disease, when 
the  whole  body 
becomes  a  help- 
less mass  of  pow- 
erless muscles. 
Even  when  not 
diseased  the  long 
bones  would  be- 
come twisted  by 
the  traction  of 
the  muscles  at- 
tached to  them, 
unless  their  ends 
were  braced  and 
strengthened  in  the  way  described.  The  shafts  of  the  long 
bones  are  even  stronger,  for  although  in  their  structure 
they  at  first  seem  to  have  but  little  resemblance  to  lattice 
bone,  yet  under  the  microscope  it  can  be  shown  that  dense 
ivory-like  bone  (eburnated)  and  spongy  latticed  bone  are 
really  one  and  the  same  thing  except  in  the  relative  compact- 
ness of  their  fibers;  for  it  is  only  necessary  to  crowd  those  of 
spongy  bone  close  enough  together  to  convert  the  latticed 


Bone  section  showing  lamellae  and  Haversian  canals. 


Beams,  Rafters,  Cushions,  and  Servants.         35 

bone  into  the  compactest  kind  of  bone  tissue,  such  as  is  found 
in  the  shafts  of  the  long  bones.  Even  the  densest  sort  of 
bones  show  under  the  microscope  minute  openings  (Haver- 
sian canals),  into  which  the  capillary  or  hair-like  blood-vessels 
pass  to  nourish  the  bones.  Around  these  are  placed  concentric 
circles  (lamellae)  or  layers  of  bone  well  shown  in  the  previous 
cut.  In  fact,  the  microscopic  appearance  of  bone  may  be  com- 
pared to  a  bundle  of  lead-pencils,  their  interspaces  correspond- 
ing to  the  lacunae  and  canaliculi;  for  a  higher  power  microscope 
shows,  in  addition  to  the  Haversian  canals,  between  the  lam- 
ellae (a)  minute  black  lines  (canaliculi),  connecting  irregular 
dark  spots  (lacunae),  looking  not  unlike  crushed  insects.  These 
lakes  and  connecting  canals,  for  such  they  are,  constitute  the 
lymphatic  system  of  the  bones,  allowing  from  their  great  num- 
ber the  permeation  of  the  entire  bony  system  with  nutrient 
lymph.  Chinese  ingenuity  has  never  yet  designed  as  intricate 
and  efficient  a  system  of  irrigation  as  that  which  can  be  dis- 
covered in  any  old  bone ;  for  not  only  those  of  the  human  body, 
but  the  bones  of  all  animals,  are  similarly  provided.  The  open- 
ings in  the  bones  of  birds  are  longer  and  narrower  than  those  of 
mammals,  and  the  canaliculi  remarkably  tortuous.  In  the  bones 
of  fishes  the  lacunae  are  long  and  narrow,  and  in  reptiles  angular 
and  with  few  canaliculi.  Hence  it  is  that  the  geologist  can  tell 
from  a  sliver  of  fossil  bone  whether  it  formerly  belonged  to 
beast,  bird,  fish,  or  one  of  the  huge  lizards  which  once  roamed 
this  earth,  for,  curiously  enough,  the  bones  of  an  immense 
iguanadon  and  a  tiny  lizard  of  to-day  have  exactly  the  same 
markings. 

Lacunae  and  canaliculi  are,  so  to  speak,  the  water-marks 
which  enable  the  expert  microscopist  to  identify  with  cer- 
tainty the  variety  of  animal  from  which  a  given  piece  of 
bone  has  come.  , 

Science  plays  sad  havoc  with  many  a  tradition,  and  one  of 
these  thus  rudely  treated  is  that  of  the  bones  of  the  eleven 
thousand  virgins  at  Cologne.  The  legend  says  they  are  those 
of  Saint  Ursula's  maidens,  but  the  anatomist  looks  at  them 
through  his  microscope  and  unhesitatingly  declares  that  they 


36 


Physiology  and  Hygiene. 


are  largely  not  human  bones  at  all,  but  those  of  the  lower 
animals,  even  chicken  bones  being  found  among  them. 

As  has   already  been  said,  these  bone-lakes  and   canals 

freely  communicate  with  the 
lymphatic  vessels  of  the 
marrow  and  those  of  the 
Haversian  canals.  The  lakes, 
or  spider-like  lacunae,  are 
the  original  resting-places 
of  the  germinal  matter 
(bone  -  cells),  already  de- 
scribed as  being  found  in 
Section  of  bone  showing  canaiicuii  and  bone-making  cartilage.  These 
lacunae.  bone-cells,  when  recent,  pos- 

sess arms,  or  branches,  which  extend  out  into  tiny  canals 
communicating  with  it.  As  the  bone-cells  grow  older  these 
branches  shrivel  up  and  leave  the  canaiicuii  open  for  the 
transmission  of  lymph. 

All  of  our  bones  are  chemically  alike  in  that  they  are  com- 
posed of  a  gelatinous  (organic)  and  an  earthy  (inorganic) 
part.  In  human  bones,  one  third  part  is  gelatinous  and  the 
remainder  earthy.  The  organic  part  of  bone  is  what  gives 
it  elasticity,  while  the  earthy  part  is  added  to  furnish  requi- 
site hardness  and  strength.  The  earthy  salts  can  be  entirely 
removed  from  a  bone  by  soaking  it  in  a  dilute  acid  several 
days,  which  converts  the  hardest  bone  into  a  gristly,  flexible 
substance,  which  is  elastic  enough  to  permit  its  being  tied 
into  a  knot.  This  is  the  part  of  the  bone  which  furnishes 
soup  and  jellies  for  the  thrifty  housewife,  and  is  so  perma- 
nent under  favorable  circumstances  that  Dean  Buckland  is 
said  to  have  entertained  a  dinner  party  with  a  soup  made 
from  the  bones  of  an  extinct  mastodon.  To  what  base  ends 
may  we  come  at  last ! 

"  Imperial  Caesar,  dead  and  turned  to  clay, 
Might  stop  a  hole  to  keep  the  cold  away." 

And  less  imperial  we  may  have  our  poor  skeletons  boiled 
down  to  make  glue,  or  ground  to  powder  to  convert  their 


Beams,  Rafters,  Cushions,  and  Servants.  37 

earthy  phosphates  into  fertilizers,  for  chemistry  acts  the  ogre 
in  Jack  the  Giant-Killer,  whose  threat  to  grind  an  English- 
man's bones  to  make  his  bread  is  fulfilled  in  the  modern 
fertilizer  factoiy,  where  bones  of  every  description  are  pul- 
verized to  scatter  over  the  wheat-fields. 

For  convenience  in  study,  the  bones  of  the  body  are  usually 
divided  into  four  classes;  namely,  long  bones,  short  bones, 
flat  bones,  and  irregular  bones,  each  admirably  adapted  for 
its  special  work ;  for  example,  the  long  bones  of  the  arms 
and  legs  are  levers  designed  for  lifting  and  propelling  the 
body.  They  are  made  hollow,  for  the  reason  that  in  this 
way  is  obtained  the  maximum  amount  of  strength  with  the 
minimum  quantity  of  material.  Columns  support  weights 
directly  in  proportion  to  their  diameter,  and  inversely  to 
their  height.  Hence  the  heaviest  bodies  should  have  the 
shortest  legs,  and  vice  versa.  As  a  rule  we  find  this  true. 
The  balancing  of  the  body  upon  the  feet  is  no  easy  task,  as 
every  young  child  learns  at  the  cost  of  many  a  hard  bump. 
Standing  is  made  the  more  difficult  by  the  fact  that  the 
lower  limbs,  like  the  pig  immortalized  in  nursery  rhyme,  are 
double-jointed — yes,  and  treble,  for  there  are  joints  at  the 
thighs,  knees,  and  ankles.  For  running  and  jumping,  this 
jointing  of  the  leg  is  invaluable,  but  it  adds  greatly  to 
the  difficulty  of  keeping  the  body  upright.  This  can  only 
be  done  by  the  antagonizing  of  various  groups  of  muscles, 
one  set  of  which  acting  alone  will  pull  the  body  over  on 
the  face  ;  another  will  pull  it  on  the  back,  others  sideways; 
but  when  all  of  these  muscles  act  together,  the  body  is  held 
upright,  balanced  exactly  right.  How  difficult  this  is  can 
easily  be  ascertained  by  trying  to  make  a  skeleton  stand  up- 
right, or  even  a  rigid  corpse,  as  one  frozen  by  cold.  Walk- 
ing, simple  as  it  appears  to  us  from  constant  practice,  is  even 
more  difficult  than  standing.  Learning  to  walk  a  tight  rope, 
for  an  adult,  is  no  more  difficult  a  task  than  a  child's  first 
attempts  at  walking.  No  less  than  sixty-two  bones  are  more 
or  less  necessary  for  the  act,  for  the  loss  of  any  one  of  the 
bones  of  the  legs  or  feet  seriously  cripples  the  process  of 


38  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

alternately  falling  and  catching  one's  self  just  in  time,  which 
constitutes  walking.  To  walk  we  must  first  stand,  and 
standing  requires  that  the  center  of  gravity  must  fall  inside 
of  the  feet,  for  which  no  less  than  eight  sets  of  muscles  are 
required  to  hold  the  body  thus  perpendicular  in  equilibrium. 
The  slightest  step  disarranges  this  nice  adjustment  of  antag- 
onizing muscles,  and  the  body  would  fall  all  in  a  heap  if  it 
were  not  that  we  have  learned  just  when  to  catch  ourselves 
before  we  fall,  and  in  so  doing  we  find  ourselves  a  step  in 
advance. 

If  we  look  at  the  process  a  little  more  in  detail,  we  shall 
find  that  taking  even  a  couple  of  steps  is  not  a  simple  mat- 
ter, for  it  requires,  first,  lifting  the  right  foot  the  fraction  of 
an  inch  from  the  floor;  but  even  this  little  involves  turning 
the  body  slightly  on  the  left  ankle,  as  a  pivot,  and  balancing 
the  body  over  the  left  foot.  Now  as  the  right  foot  is 
brought  forward  the  body  must  be  kept  constantly  bending 
forward,  so  as  to  keep  it  in  equilibrium  over  the  left  foot,  which 
is  now  the  only  pedestal.  We  cannot,  however,  keep  on 
bending,  for  erelong  we  should  fall  on  our  faces;  so  just  at 
the  moment  when  the  step  would  change  into  a  fall — which 
only  means  the  center  of  gravity  gets  outside  of  the  sup- 
porting foot — down  comes  the  toe  of  the  right  foot  to  the 
ground  to  act  as  a  support.  As  the  right  foot  goes  down 
the  left  heel  comes  up,  for  the  incipient  fall  was  just  bring- 
ing that  left  foot  up  from  terra  firma.  For  a  second  we  are 
an  equilateral  triangle;  but  heel  and  toe  are  unsteady  sup- 
ports, so  the  body  transfers  its  weight  to  the  left  foot  entire- 
ly as  the  latter  comes  down  squarely  to  the  ground,  and  once 
more  we  are  one-footed.  As  the  left  is  brought  to  place,  the 
body  swings  slightly  to  the  right  over  the  right  ankle,  back 
again  until  we  are  nearly  upright,  and  now  the  left  foot  goes 
forward  and  the  whole  process  is  reversed.  So  that  walking, 
simple  as  it  seems,  is  really  a  most  complex  series  of  fallings, 
balancings,  rolling  from  side  to  side,  and  alternately  growing 
taller  or  shorter  as  we  make  ourselves  into  isosceles  triangles 
or  rectangles.     It  is  a  curious  study,  not  only  theoretically, 


Beams,  Rafters,  Cushions,  and  Servants.  39 

but  practically;  for,  unlike  many  other  things,  the  theory  of 
walking  is  quite  intricate,  but  the  practice,  provided  you 
give  your  feet  a  fair  chance,  ought  to  be  as  easy  as  the 
swinging  of  a  pendulum  to  and  fro.  Walking  is  capital  ex- 
ercise, but  it  is  hard  work  as  well;  and  when  practiced  on 
French  heels,  placed  near  the  middle  of  the  foot,  is  almost 
as  difficult  and  tiresome  as  walking  on  stilts.  The  French 
heel  is  an  anatomical  abomination,  and  utterly  useless  for 
walking.  The  only  shoe  fit  for  this  purpose  is  one  with  a 
broad,  low  heel  and  a  thick  sole  broader  than  the  foot. 
With  such  shoes,  and  with  suitable  clothing,  walking  is  with- 
in the  reach  of  every  one's  purse.  Even  a  fashionable  lady 
can  profit  much  from  her  shopping  if  she  will  act  upon  the 
rule  of  using  the  elevator  in  going  up-stairs  and  walking 
down;  for  walking  up-stairs  is  hard  work,  and  sometimes 
dangerous  for  those  with  damaged  heart  or  lungs;  going 
down-stairs  hurts  no  one.  "  It  shakes  up  the  anatomy,  with- 
out incurring  the  danger  of  physical  overexertion.  This 
shaking  up  is  good  for  one's  internal  mechanism,  which  it 
accelerates,  especially  the  liver,  the  kidneys,  and  the  blood 
circulation." 

Walking  tied  up  in  corsets  is  harder  work  than  climbing 
up-stairs  without  them,  for,  as  may  be  seen  from  the  annexed 
cut,  if  the  lower  parts  of  the  chest  are  allowed  a  chance  for 
free  expansion  they  afford  ample  space  for  breathing;  but  if 
tied  down  by  a  tight  corset  they  have,  as  the  Chinese  say, 
"  God's  life  "  squeezed  out  of  them.  Of  the  two  the  Chinese 
small  feet  are  the  more  sensible  deformity,  for  they  inflict  no 
serious  injury  upon  health.  Argument,  anatomy,  and  com- 
mon sense  combined  seem  powerless  against  Queen  Elizabeth's 
girdle  of  buckram,  the  source  of  more  female  woes  unnum- 
bered than  the  wrath  of  Achilles.  "It's  the  fashion  to  wear 
'em,"  is  the  invariable  answer  to  all  objections  urged  against 
corsets,  but  why,  if  the  corset,  as  is  claimed,  is  worn  for  sup- 
port, is  not  man  better  entitled  to  it  than  woman  ?  We  have 
it  on  good  authority  that  Adam  early  in  his  existence  lost  a 
rib,  and  his  boys  may  reasonably  be  supposed  to  have  inner- 


40 


Physiology  and  Hygiene. 


ited  their  father's   deficiencies;  although  it  is  not  true,  as 
many  Sunday-school   children   are   taught  to  believe,  that 


Diagram  of  the  Relations  of  the  Thoracic  viscera  to  the  Walls  of  the 

Chest.   (Bellamy.) 

I.  Situation  of  pulmonary  orifice.  2.  Left  auriculo-ventricular  orifice.  3.  Orifice 
of  aorta.  4.  Right  auriculo-ventricular  orifice.  5.  Limit  of  the  anterior  and  inferior 
border  of  left  lung  in  complete  expiration.  6.  Ditto  of  right  lung.  7.  Limit  of  left 
lung  in  inspiration.  8.  Ditto  of  right  lung  in  inspiration.  9.  Limit  of  pleura. 
10.  Ditto.  11.  Superior  cul-de-sac  of  left  lung.  12.  Ditto  of  right  lung.  13.  Right 
auricle.  14.  Right  auricular  appendage.  15.  Left  auricle.  16.  Limit  of  diaphragm 
in  complete  expiration.    17.  Ditto*  ditto.    18.  Ditto,  ditto,  in  complete  inspiration. 


men  are  short  one  rib  on  the  side  from  which  Eve  was  taken. 
All  have  twelve  ribs  on  each  side — seven  attached  to  the 
breast-bone  and  five  free  or  floating  ribs.  These  with  the 
backbone,  breast,  and  collar  bones  make  the  cage  especially 
designed  for  protecting  the  lungs  and  vital  parts  within. 
Nature  knew  just  how  she  wanted  those  parts  protected;  but 
fashion  comes  along  and  would  remodel  nature's  work  ac- 
cording to  its  own  idea.  But  why  should  not  a  woman  have 
as  good  a  chance  to  breathe  as  a  man  ? 

A  backbone  is  a  most  important  thing  for  the  body.     This 


Beams,  Rafteks,  Cushions,  and  Servants.  41 


"  spine  of  tha  back,"  as  Widow  Bedott  called  it,  has  been  the 
wonder  of  the  anatomists  of  all  ages.  It  might  have  been 
made  a  single  straight  bone ;  bnt  oh ! 
what  a  stiff-necked  generation  it  would 
have  left  us.  Infinite  wisdom  has 
fastened  together  thirty-three  little  -ft"V 
bespangled  bits  of  bone,  called  verte- 
brae, which  are  really  a  series  of  little 
levers,  closely  fitting  one  to  another, 
firm,  strong,  and  flexible,  inclosing  in 
their  midst  the  spinal  cord.  The  spi- 
nal column  is  really  a  spring  with 
four  curves,  which  break  the  force  of 
every  jump  or  sudden  movement 
which  otherwise  would  shake  the  soft 
brains  to  pulp  against  the  bony  skull,  p^.. 
These  curves  in  the  back-bone  are  ^ 
mainly  due  to  little  cushions  of  carti- 
lage placed  between  the  vertebrae. 
These  cushions  are  called  interverte- 
bral disks,  and  are  really  bags  of  car- 
tilage containing  fluid,  something  as 
if  each  vertebra  was  guarded  from 
shock  by  having  a  tiny  water-pillow 
placed  between  it  and  its  neighbor. 
A  man  is  about  a  quarter  of  an  inch 
shorter  at  night  than  in  the  morning. 

The  reason  for  this  is,  that  these  little     A-'a  diagrammatic  section 
-,.,,.,,  v.  ,  -of  the  human  body  taken  verti- 

disks  shrink  by  continued  pressure  of  Caiiy  through  the  median  plane. 

the  day  and  expand  after  a  night's  c.s.,  the  cerebrospinal  nervous 

r*      ,.  t  ,  system;  N,  the  cavity  of  the 

rest.    Continued  unequal  pressure  may  nose.  Mt  that  of  the  mouth; 

tilt  the  Spine   to   One  side  or  the  Other  Al.  AL,  the  alimentary  canal 
i .I       ,i  •   i        •  ,i  •       •  /»  represented  as  a  simple  straight 

by  the  thickening  or  thinning  of  one  tuJ)e;  ^ the heart ;D, the dia- 
side  of  these  intervertebral  disks,  thus  pbragm;  Sty,  the  sympathetic 
producing  curvature  of  the  spine;  and  &w&*»-Huxiey. 
one  of  the  ways  in  which  this  is  done  is  by  the  unlady-like 
trick  of  sitting  upon  one  foot.     It  is  too  bony  to  make  a 


42  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

good  cushion,  and  is  responsible  for  not  a  few  crooked  spines, 
as  may  be  seen  by  closely  watching  any  large  audience. 
There  are  rickety  houses,  and  so  there  are  rickety  children, 
or  those  whose  bones  are  so  soft  that  the  body  is  bent  all  out 
of  shape.  Later  in  life  these  twisted  bones  harden,  as  all 
bones  do  with  advancing  age,  and  the  result  is  that  the  body 
becomes  permanently  twisted  and  deformed.  Again,  this 
may  happen  from  increased  fragility  of  the  bones,  which  may 
be  so  great  as  to  lead  to  fracture  from  the  slightest  violence. 
A  slight  degree  of  this  is  found  in  all  old  persons. 

The  boys  on  the  streets  call  their  heads  "cocoa-nuts;" 
and  this  idea  of  the  skull  being  a  shell  is  as  old  as  the  early 
Danes,  who  called  it  "  hierneskall  "  (brain  shell).  The  skull 
is  really  an  oval  box  made  of  eight  bones,  neatly  dove-tailed 
together.  This  box  shows  in  a  beautiful  manner  the  exqui- 
site care  that  has  been  taken  to  guard  from  all  harm  what 
brains  have  been  allotted  us.  Architects  tell  us  that  the 
arch  of  the  skull — three  arches,  in  fact,  for  the  bones  have  each 
three  layers — is  so  put  together  that  it  will  resist  the  greatest 
amount  of  pressure  with  the  smallest  weight  of  materials; 
and  it  is  wonderful  how  hard  a  blow  can  be  received  on  the 
head  without  any  serious  injury  following.  Its  cushions  of 
hair  and  movable  scalp  add  in  no  slight  degree  to  the  protec- 
tion of  the  brain,  so  that  it  is  rare  that  any  ordinary  blow 
brings  us  more  than  a  bump;  and  if  this  bump  is  in  the  right 
place,  according  to  phrenology,  it  will  be  a  blessing.  Science, 
however,  has  as  yet  only  awarded  to  phrenology  the  Scotch 
verdict,  "  not  proven."  While  it  may  be  true  that  different 
functions  are  committed  to  different  parts  of  the  brain,  and 
that  one  can  often  tell  something  of  a  man's  character  and 
way  of  living  from  the  general  shape  of  his  head,  yet  it  is  in 
nowise  proven  that  every  fractional  inch  of  protuberance 
betokens  some  corresponding  faculty.  In  fact,  we  know  that 
most  of  these  skull  markings  go  no  deeper  than  the  surface 
of  the  bone. 

There  is  much  that  we  could  find  to  interest  us  in  this  brain 
cup,  for  it  is  full  of  markings  made  by  vessels  and  membranes; 


Beams,  Rafters,  Cushions,  and  Servants.         43 

besides,  there  are  passages  many  and  various  by  which 
the  nerves  find  exit,  all  showing  the  same  watchful  care. 
More  attractive  is  the  face,  composed  of  fourteen  of 
•the  crookedest  bones  in  the  body.  In  regard  to  its  care  it 
is  scarcely  necessary  to  say  more  than  that  it  is  not  wise 
to  attempt  to  retouch  nature's  painting.  "  Pearl  Powder," 
said  a  philosopher,  "is  made  of  nothing  but  dirt,  and 
rubbing  such  stuff  upon  the  beautiful  skin  of  a  young  lady 
is  a  dirty  practice."  The  neck  proper  in  all  mammals,  ex- 
cept two,  consists  of  seven  vertebrae,  the  upper  of  which  is 
a  pivot  on  which  the  head  is  hung,  like  that  of  a  toy  manda- 
rin, whose  head  keeps  bobbing  with  the  slightest  movement. 
And  so  would  and  does  ours  when  we  get  too  old  to  properly 
use  our  muscles  ;  but  ordinarily  they  keep  the  head  accu- 
rately balanced  on  top  of  this  pillar,  on  which  it  is  hung  on  a 
swivel  joint  and  a  pair  of  rockers.  In  the  neck  are  contained 
some  of  the  most  vital  parts  of  the  body.  On  the  front  of 
the  neck  are  many  large  blood-vessels  and  the  windpipe. 
When  we  look  at  their  protection  compared  to  that  of  the 
brain  it  seems  very  inadequate  ;  but  at  approaching  danger 
the  head  is  instinctively  drawn  down,  and  these  parts,  thus 
protected,  as  are  a  turtle's  when  he  withdraws  into  his  shell. 
The  bones  which  would  first  attract  your  attention  on  the 
back  are  the  scapulae,  or  shoulder-blades,  which  are  chiefly 
placed  there  for  sockets  for  the  arms.  They  have  been  fre- 
quently compared  to  sprouting  wings,  but  our  arms  and  not 
our  shoulder-blades  are  our  nearest  approach  to  wings,  and 
they  are  not  a  success  in  that  line.  Some  one  who  had  plenty 
of  time  has  made  a  calculation  proving  that,  even  if  a  man  had 
wings  in  like  proportion  to  those  of  a  bird,  yet  his  body  is  so 
heavy  that  all  the  power  which  he  could  exert  in  a  whole 
day  would  only  suffice  to  hold  him  up  in  the  air  for  five 
minutes.  It  is  a  discouraging  prospect  for  all  soaring  Darius 
Greens,  but  they  should  console  themselves  with  the  thought 
that,  though  their  wings  are  still  rudimentary,  their  arms  are 
far  more  wonderful.  It  takes  thirty  bones  to  form  each  of 
these  instruments,  which  hang  so  lightly  in  the  cups  of  the 


4-i  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

shoulder-blades  ;  but  all  the  patent  offices  in  the  world  con- 
tain no  model  of  any  thing  that  could  fill  their  places.  The 
plan  according  to  which  our  arms  have  been  made  is  the 
same  as  that  for  all  vertebrates;  that  is,  we  may  say  the  arm 
is  made  up  of  five  sections:  (a)  upper  arm,  (b)  fore  arm,  (c) 
wrist,  (d)  palm,  (e)  finger;  and  the  wing  of  a  bird,  the  fore  leg 
of  a  stag,  and  even  the  flipper  of  a  whale  are  essentially  arms. 

If  we  went  on  all  fours,  probably  we  should  walk  on 
the  palms  of  our  hands,  as  do  bears.  As  all  arms  may  be 
considered  to  be  made  up  of  analogous  five  sections,  you 
have  only  to  count  the  joints  to  find  that  the  stag  runs  on 
the  tips  of  his  first  and  second  fingers,  while  the  horse  has 
only  a  stiff  middle  finger  left  on  which  to  prance.  So  that 
Avhile  all  vertebrates  have  in  a  certain  sense  arms,  it  is 
also  true  that  their  hoofs  and  paws  are  a  very  poor  substi- 
tute for  hands.  Our  Darwinian  grandfathers  come  the 
nearest  to  having  a  human  hand,  but  it  has  only  a  poor 
apology  for  a  thumb. 

As  we  pass  down,  we  find  the  lower  limbs,  which  hang 
droopingly  from  little  hollows  in  that  great  dish  of  bone 
which,  from  resemblance  to  an  old  fashioned  barber's  basin, 
has  been  named  the  pelvis.  This  pelvis  is  a  sort  of  a 
saddle  in  which  we  ride  through  the  world,  carried 
hither  and  thither  by  our  trusty  bearers,  the  legs.  The 
cantle  of  this  saddle  is  the  "cuckoo-bone,"  which  the 
learned  Jewish  rabbins  declared  was  the  indestructible  part  of 
the  body.  "  Pound  it,"  they  said,  "  with  heavy  hammers  on 
anvils,  soak  it  for  centuries  in  the  strongest  solvents,  burn  it 
for  ages  in  the  fiercest  furnaces,  it  is  all  in  vain — its  magic 
structure  will  remain."  To  these  wild  imaginings  Paul  re- 
plied, "  Thou  fool,  that  which  thou  sowest  is  not  quickened 
except  it  die,"  and  to  us  the  coccyx  has  become  about  as  un- 
important a  bone  as  there  is  in  the  body. 

Leaving  then  the  bony  system  by  the  coccyx,  or  its  extremity, 
let  us  turn  our  attention  to  our  servants,  the  muscles,  by  which 
we  are  enabled  to  use  our  bony  levers  and  joints.  A  muscle 
literally  means  a  little  mouse,  but  what  the  resemblance  is 


Beams,  Rafters,  Cushions,  and  Servants.        45 

would  be  hard  to  tell,  unless  it  was  supposed  that  the  con- 
traction of  a  muscle  resembled  a  mouse  running  beneath  the 
skin.  Generally,  a  muscle  is  thought  of  as  a  hideous  com- 
pound of  boiled  beef  and  anatomical  plates  of  skinned  men; 
but  a  muscle  is  really  more  dainty  and  curious  than  a  Swiss 
watch. 

Turning  over  the  plates  of  an  anatomy,  it  seems  hard  to 
believe  this,  for  they  seem  like  the  contents  of  that  human 
butcher-shop  over  which  we  shuddered  in  the  Arabian 
Nights.  There  are  spread  out  before  us  long  muscles  and 
short  muscles,  flat  and  square,  penniform  and  bipenniform, 
this  one  a  bag,  that  one  a  ring  ;  now  as  long  as  the  tailor's 
muscle,  and  again  like  those  of  the  ear,  only  a  hair's  breadth. 
They  are  a  more  motley  company  than  Falstaff's  own,  and  their 
names  are  worse.  Some  are  named  from  their  form;  as  the 
square  muscle,  the  D  shaped  muscle,  the  two-headed,  the  three- 
headed,  the  saw  muscle,  etc.;  others  are  named  from  their 
location,  as  the  greater  and  lesser  chest  muscles,  the  temporal, 
etc.  Again,  they  are  named  according  to  the  ground  they 
traverse,  as  the  omo-hyoid,  the  chest,  neck,  and  ear  muscles  ; 
another  anatomist  decides  that  he  will  name  them  from 
the  work  they  do,  and  we  have  consequently  flexors,  ex- 
tensors, adductors,  pronators,  and  supinators;  and  last  of 
all  comes  some  genius  who  has  named  them  from  some 
fancied  resemblance  or  use,  which  last  are  the  worst  of 
all  to  remember.  There  are  five  hundred  and  twenty-seven 
muscles  in  all,  two  hundred  and  sixty-one  in  pairs,  and  five 
single  ones. 

There  is  one  most  important  division  of  muscles  which  should 
be  remembered;  namely,  voluntary  and  involuntary  muscles, 
or  those  which  act  under  the  control  of  our  will  and  those 
beyond  it.  It  is  a  blessed  thing  for  us  that  we  have  these 
involuntary  muscles;  for  we  must  sometimes  sleep,  and  the 
heart,  lungs,  and  all  the  functions  of  animal  life  must  be 
kept  at  work,  or  we  should  never  see  the  morning.  They 
are  tireless,  uncomplaining,  patient  workers.  To  be  sure,  the 
involuntary  muscles  do  not  directly  write  books,  solve  prob- 


46 


Physiology  and  Hygiene. 


lems,  paint  pictures,  build  cathedrals,  nor  fire  the  Ephesian 
dome,  but  they  keep  the  soul's  home  swept  and  garnished. 
It  is  a  grand  thing  to  do  one's  work  well,  no  matter  how 
humble  it  may  be;  indeed,  we  may  find,  in  the  last  great  day, 
that  it  is  grander  as  the  work  grows  humbler.  So  it  may  be 
that  these  despised  muscles,  which  have  "  no  sphere,"  are 
more  to  be  admired  than  the  haughtiest  muscle  that  ever 
wagged  the  tongue. 

All  muscles  are  covered  with  a  fascia,  or  bandage,  of 
cellular  tissue.  If  you  have  ever  noticed  corned  beef,  you 
must  have  seen  how  the  muscle  breaks  up  into  bundles  on 
boiling;  and  these  bundles  of  fibers  can  be  separated  into 
separate  fibers  with  careful  dissection.  If  a  microscope  has 
not  been  used  you  have  probably  not  observed  it,  but  the 
fibers  and  bundles  are  each  swathed  in  a  bandage  similar  to 
that  which  holds  the  muscle  itself.  Now  put  one  of  these 
fibers  under  the  microscope,  and  you  will  see  that  its  covering 
is  a  transparent,  elastic,  membranous  bag  filled  with  a  com- 
pact substance,  which  is  striated  or  banded  with  alternate 
dark  and  light  disks,  through  which  are  scattered  cell  nuclei, 
or  germinal  matter.  In  the  voluntary  muscles  we  find 
there  is  on  the  outside  the  fascia,  which  incloses  in  a  common 
bandage  bundles  of  fibers;  then  each  bundle  of  fibers  has  its 
particular  covering;  and,  lastly,  we  find  each  fiber  is  made 

up  of  contractible  disks  shut  up 
in  a  common  bandage.  These  ul- 
timate voluntary,  muscular  fibers 
might  be  compared  to  a  pile  of 
black  and  white  checkers  shut  up 
in  a  transparent,  old-fashioned 
long  purse.  That  conrparison  is, 
however,  not  quite  exact,  for  we  find  by  a  higher  power 
these  disks  are  shown  to  be  made  of  still  smaller  fibers 
running  parallel  to  the  sheath,  as  if  the  checkers  were  made 
of  a  fibrous  wood. 

The  involuntary  muscles  differ  from  the  voluntary  in  that 
they  are  not  banded  or  striated,  have  no  fibrillse,  and  their 


Striped  muscular  fibers  and  sheath 
— Klein. 


|| 


Beams,  Raftees,  Cushions,  and  Seevants.  47 

fibers  have  no  covering,  but  are  made  up  of  long  bands,  each 
containing  a  rod-like  bit  of  germinal  matter.  This  is  the 
last  of  the  body  to  die,  for  Dr.  Brown-Sequard,  the  French 
physiologist,  nas  demonstrated  that,  for  several  days  after 
death,  during  the  rigid  condition  which  immediately  fol- 
low the  cessation  of  life,  the  muscles  of  an  animal  undergo 
slow,  alternate  contractions  and  elongations;  and  he  reaches 
the  startling  conclusion  that  the  muscles  in  rigor  mortis  are 
not  dead,  but  are  still  endowed  with  vital  powers,  being, 
however,  in  a  certain  chemical  condition  which  is  antecedent 
and  preparatory  to  final  death. 

If  the  muscles  did  nothing  but  protect  the  vital  parts 
and  give  form  and  beauty  to  the  house  in  which  we 
live,  they  might  be  compared  to  the  bricks  of  an  ordinary 
building,  but  they  do  far  more  than  that.  They  both  protect 
us  and  make  us  shapely,  and  are  the  "sine  qua  nons  of  all 
motion."  Perhaps  it  would  not  be  straining  a  simile  to  liken 
them  to  a  company  of  waiting  servants.  Here  they  stand 
idle  until  the  word  comes  telegraphed  down  the  nerve,  "  Move 
this,  or  that."  Take  your  forearm,  for  instance.  You  wish 
to  bring  your  hand  up  to  the  body.  The  telegraphic  office 
in  the  brain  sends  word  to  that  group  of  servants  we  call  the 
biceps  muscle,  "Bring  up  that  forearm."  No  sooner  is  it 
received  than  each  fiber  recognizes  the  command,  and,  gath- 
ering itself  together,  pulls  with  might  and  main;  and,  as  all 
the  other  fibers  do  the  same,  the  whole  muscle  contracts  or 
becomes  shorter.  Consequently,  either  the  forearm  must  be 
raised  or  something  will  give  way,  as  not  infrequently  hap- 
pens in  too  violent  exercise,  when,  for  reason,  the  arm  is 
restricted  in  its  action,  as  in  throwing  a  base-ball.  The 
natural  result  of  the  contraction  of  the  individual  fibers  of 
the  muscles  is  either  to  drag  the  shoulder  down  to  the  arm, 
or  the  arm  must  come  toward  it  or  break.  To  prevent  this 
breaking  there  is  fortunately  provided  a  hinge-joint  at  the 
elbow  which  allows  the  forearm  to  turn  on  it  like  a  door  on 
its  hinges;  so,  instead  of  a  crash,  up  comes  the  hand  in  much 
less  time  than  it  has  taken  to  describe  it. 


48  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

The  work  of  all  the  muscles  is  in  its  last  analysis  simply 
moving  something,  and  in  fact  all  the  work  done  in  this 
busy  work-a-day  world  essentially  consists  of  that.  This 
something  moved  by  the  muscle  may  be  either  bone,  muscle, 
cartilage,  or  ligament,  but  wherever  a  muscle  is  found  there 
is  a  certainty  that  it  has  been  placed  where  it  is  to  do  lifting 
of  some  kind  or  other  by  contraction  of  its  muscular  fibers. 
This  contraction  may  come  on  involuntarily,  and  then  it  is 
said  the  muscle  has  a  cramp,  as  many  a  boy  has  found  to  his 
cost  when  he  has  remained  for  too  long  a  time  in  the  cold 
water.  The  danger  in  such  cases  arises  from  the  fact  that  a 
muscle  thus  involuntarily  contracted  loses  its  power  of  relax- 
ing itself  when  we  wish.  A  succession  of  these  cramps,  at- 
tended with  unconsciousness,  constitutes  what  is  ordinarily 
known  as  a  fit,  or  fits.  There  is  hardly  a  more  distressing 
sight  that  ever  comes  to  the  physician's  notice  than  an  attack 
of  this  description,  where,  apparently,  every  muscle  in  the 
body  is  convulsed  and  their  hapless  owner  thrown  hither  and 
thither  without  power  to  control  his  motions.  If  conscious- 
ness is  entirely  lost  we  call  such  an  attack  a  convulsion  ;  if, 
however,  consciousness  is  preserved,  and  an  involuntary  action 
of  the  muscles  occurs,  the  disease  is  known  as  Saint  Vitus's 
dance,  from  the  saint  who  was  supposed  to  have  power  over 
these  gyrations. 

The  muscles  are  our  servants,  and  better  ones  than  most 
houses  are  blessed  with.  The  servant  question  is  one  of  the 
most  perplexing  of  our  modern  civilization,  but  it  is  not  one 
which  vexes  the  house  in  which  we  live,  for  its  servants  differ 
widely  from  the  ordinary  domestic.  These  muscles  of  ours 
never  insist  on  having  every  other  afternoon  and  half  day 
every  Sunday.  They  have  no  innumerable  flock  of  cousins  to 
drop  in  at  meal-time,  they  are  never  impudent,  never  take  ad- 
vantage of  your  necessities  and  give  notice  to  quit  because 
asked  to  perform  a  little  unexpected  work.  On  the  contrary, 
they  are  willing  and  anxious  to  work,  and  ask  in  return  only 
food,  clothing,  and  training.  The  best  of  servants  need  this, 
and  the  muscles  are  no  exception  to  the  rule.     Watch  a  baby 


*t 


Beams,  Rafters,  Cushions,   and  Servants.  40 

giving  its  muscles  their  first  instruction,  and  see  how  greatly 
they  need  such  teaching,  for  the  first  effort  of  a  young  babe 
to  put  its  linger  into  his  mouth  often  eventuates  in  damage 
to  its  eye;  but  in  no  other  way  than  by  practice  can  muscles 
be  educated  for  their  seventy  or  eighty  years  of  service. 

A  curious  as  well  as  interesting  series  of  experiments,  made 
in  Fiance,  shows  approximately  that  the  heaviest  load  a  man 
of  strength  can  carry  for  a  short  distance  is  319  pounds;  all 
a  man  can  carry  habitually,  as,  for  example,  a  soldier  his 
knapsack,  walking  on  level  ground,  is  132  pounds — an  ex- 
treme load,  it  would  seem — or  he  can  carry  an  aggregate  of 
1,518  pounds  over  3,200  feet  as  a  day's  work,  under  like  cir- 
cumstances. If  he  ascend  ladders  or  stairs,  as  do  hod-car- 
riers, then  he  can  carry  but  121  pounds  continuously,  and  his 
day's  work  cannot  exceed  1,232  pounds  raised  3,200  feet  high. 
With  regard  to  the  effort  and  the  velocity  which  a  man 
can  produce  by  pulling  or  pushing  with  his  arms,  it  has 
been  found  by  these  experiments  that,  under  the  most  favor- 
able circumstances,  and  for  continuous  work,  an  effect  can- 
not be  gained  exceeding  from  26.4  to  33  pounds  raised  from 
1.8  to  2.1  feet  per  second,  or  about  one  eighth  horse-power. 

Climbing  up  stairs  in  all  probability  is  a  more  difficult 
feat  for  a  young  child  than  the  contortionist's  feats  for  an 
adult,  but  once  learned  it  becomes  almost  as  easy  as  breathing. 
Herein  is  the  value  of  education,  for  there  is  hardly  any  thing 
that  these  muscles  cannot  be  taught  if  sufficient  time  is  given 
to  their  education.  Drawing,  painting,  music  and  sculpt- 
ure all  owe  their  possibility  to  the  infinitesimal  contractions  of 
the  tiny  checkers  of  flesh  figured  on  page  40.  So  varied  are 
the  accomplishments  of  well  trained  muscles  that  many  claim 
there  is  a  sixth,  or  a  muscular,  sense  which  enables  man  to  walk, 
estimate  weight,  and  do  a  score  of  things  which  require  other 
aid  than  simple  touch.  Many  of  these  wonderful  feats  are  per- 
formed, by  constant  practice,  at  last  almost  automatically.  This 
la  largely  true  of  the  work  of  the  musician,  knitter,  ami  teleg- 
rapher, for  practice  makes  possible  such  difficult  things  that 
one  i»  Inclined  t<>  Bay  that  nothing  is  impossible  to  the  really 


50  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

determined  man.  Matching  Scotch  plaids  by  a  blind  man  would 
seem  to  be  very  near  a  physical  impossibility,  and  yet  there  is 
well  authenticated  proof  of  a  canny  blind  tailor  doing  this  so 
well  as  to  become  very  successful  in  his  business.  Hardly  less 
wonderful  are  the  India  ink  drawings  made  with  a  brush  held 
in  the  mouth  of  a  helpless  cripple  of  Boston.  One  of  the 
famous  French  painters  had  no  arms,  and  did  all  of  his  work 
with  a  brush  held  between  his  toes;  and  there  was,  until 
recently,  if  not  at  present,  a  member  of  the  English  Parlia- 
ment without  arms  or  legs,  and  yet  this  trunk  of  a  man  was 
so  efficient  that  it  was  re-elected  repeatedly  to  a  seat  in  the 
House  of  Commons. 

A  willing  servant  may  be  overworked,  and  this  sometimes 
occurs  with  the  muscles,  as  happened  frequently  on  some  of 
the  fearful  marches  of  Napoleon's  army,  where  the  soldiers 
often  would  drop  dead  from  sheer  exhaustion.  Such  cases, 
however,  are  rare,  for  the  protest  of  a  jaded  muscle  is  usually 
too  emphatic  to  be  disregarded,  as  can  readily  be  tested  by  try- 
ing to  hold  the  arm  out  horizontally  for  only  ten  minutes. 
If  there  has  been  no  previous  practice,  it  will  prove  the 
hardest  bit  of  work  you  have  attempted  in  many  a  day,  for 
the  complaint  of  the  overtasked  muscular  libers  is  so  vehe- 
ment that,  unless  there  is  a  most  determined  will,  long  before 
the  ten  minutes  are  up  the  arm  drops  back  to  an  easier  posture. 
If,  on  the  other  hand,  the  protest  is  persistently  disregarded, 
the  muscle  at  length  loses  its  power  of  contraction  and  re- 
laxation, and  it  becomes  impossible  at  last  to  move  the  rigid 
muscles.  Thus  the  limbs  of  East  Indian  fakirs  become  at 
last  permanently  fixed  when,  in  compliance  with  some  vow, 
they  are  long  enough  held  in  a  single  position. 

Simple  inaction,  then,  may  atrophy  a  muscle,  or  cause  it  to 
Avaste  until  it  is  unable  to  perform  its  duties.  Just  what  the 
change  is  that  takes  place  within  the  muscular  sheath  we  can- 
not describe,  but  the  fact  remains  that  an  unused  muscle  is 
a  dying  one.  In  the  realm  of  the  body,  as  in  spiritual  mat- 
ters, the  hath  nots  lose  even  that  which  they  have,  and  phys- 
ical and  moral  skeletons  are  the  inevitable  results. 


Beams,  Rafters,  Cushions,  and  Servants.  51 

Manual  labor  is  irksome  both  from  nature  and  habit,  but 
the  law  of  the  house  in  which  we  live  is  that  in  no  other 
way  can  its  health  be  preserved.  The  contraction  of  each 
tiny  fibril  is  absolutely  necessary  for  its  cleansing  from  effete 
material.  Otherwise  the  House  Beautiful  grows  dusty  and 
filthy  in  the  hidden  corners,  until  its  occupant  is  poisoned  by 
his  own  fault.  As  we  shall  learn  in  the  chapter  on  sewerage, 
these  effete  substances  have  been  at  last  properly  studied,  but 
their  headaches,  lassitude,  and  general  malaise  have  been 
known  since  the  day  when  bounteous  harvests  and  man's 
natural  sloth  first  gave  him  the  opportunity  to  take  his 
ease  to  his  own  hurt.  Exercise  is  as  essential  to  good 
health  as  are  sweeping  and  dusting  to  good  housekeeping. 
Furthermore,  inaction  leads  to  a  substitution  of  fat  instead 
of  muscle.  A  certain  quantity  of  fat  is  needed  both  for  pro- 
tection and  ornament.  It  rounds  out  the  angles  and  arms  of 
the  English  and  German  maidens  and  matrons  in  a  way  that 
makes  them  the  envy  of  their  less  favored  American  sis- 
ters, of  whom  it  might  well  be  said,  with  Cresar,  "  Would 
they  were  fatter."  "  Sleek-headed  "  men  and  women  sleep 
well  o'  nights,  for  they  have  a  good  supply  of  extra  adipose  to 
meet  the  wear  and  tear  incidental  to  modern  life,  which  does 
not  leave  them  at  night  nervous  wrecks  too  utterly  unstrung 
even  to  sleep.  George  I.  thought  a  woman's  beauty  was  in 
direct  proportion  to  her  avoirdupois,  and  gross  as  was  his  idea 
of  beauty  it  was  preferable  to  the  school  girl's  "  spirituel " 
ideal.  Plumpness  makes  its  owner  warmer,  happier,  and  gen- 
erally better  tempered  than  ninety  pounds  of  flesh  and  bones, 
no  matter  how  vivacious.  So  that  so  long  as  full  weight 
(gee  tables  for  relation  of  height  to  weight)  does  not  come 
from  sloth,  or  gluttony,  it  should  be  regarded  not  as  some- 
thing to  be  dreaded  and  lamented  over,  but  as  a  surplus  fund 

upon  which  sickness  and  worry  may  draw  in  times  of  neces- 
sity. An  undue  amount  of  fat  may  be  safely  removed  by 
the  methods  detailed  in  the  appendix,  but  the  cases  in  which 
this  is  required  are  rare  in  this  country.  Chalk,  vinegar, 
pickles,  and    other   school  girl  abominations  are  n«>t  to  be 


52  Physiology  am>  Hygiene:. 

thought  of,  as  they  arc  both  inefficient  and  dangerous. 
Properly  arranged  exercise  and  regulation  of  diet  (see  Chap- 
ter III)  will  do  far  more  to  reduce  fat  than  any  quack  medi- 
cine. Such  methods  as  are  detailed  in  the  Appendix  should 
be  adopted  when  the  body  becomes  too  well  padded  for  coin- 
fort;  but  it  should  be  remembered  that  a  considerable  quan- 
tity of  fat  is  requisite  for  protection  against  cold,  for  a  fat 
man  does  not  dread  a  drop  in  the  thermometer  as  does  his 
thinner  brother.  And  naturally  so,  for  our  fat  friend  has 
on  an  extra  undergarment;  or,  if  we  return  to  the  comparison 
of  the  body  to  a  house,  his  is  well  sheathed,  and  bound  with 
felt  beneath  its  clapboards. 

Fat  is  a  poor  conductor  of  heat;  and  hence  an  overheated 
person,  if  fat,  cools  slowly,  and,  vice  versa,  endures  with  com- 
fort an  amount  of  cold  that  is  exceedingly  irksome  to  one 
thinner.  The  arrangement  of  fat  in  the  body  is  as  daintily 
adjusted  as  if  the  despised  substance  was  really  an  object  of 
value,  for  fat  is  not  spread  over  the  internal  surfaces  of  the 
body  like  butter  upon  bread;  but  each  tiny  roll  of  fat  has 
its  own  envelope  and  cell.  Under  the  microscope  these  fat 
cells  appear  like  a  spheroidal  sac,  containing  an  amber-col- 
ored fluid;  for  the  fats  of  the  body  are  held  there  in  a  liquid 
condition,  since  they  melt  at  about  the  same  heat  as  good 
butter.  After  death  they  cool,  or  as  soon  as  the  temperature 
of  the  body  falls  below  normal.  On  the  side  of  each  sac  can 
be  found,  according  to  some  observers,  a  tiny  point  of  Beale's 
germinal  matter,  whose  duty  is  to  elaborate  fat  from  the  fat- 
making  foods.  Others  think  fat  comes  from  a  churning  of 
the  fatty  foods  in  the  intestines,  and  that  the  butter,  so  to 
speak,  is  drained  off  and  deposited  in  these  cells,  which  may 
be  found  wherever  areolar  tissue — or  that  which  is  spongy 
and  has  numerous  interstices — affords  a  suitable  repository. 
No  amount  of  starvation  can  ever  remove  all  the  fat  from 
the  body,  for,  no  matter  how  emaciated  the  body  becomes, 
fat  may  always  be  found  behind  the  eye,  around  the  heart, 
in  the  brain,  and  about  the  spinal  cord.  In  short,  it  may  be 
said  that  fat  may  be  found  normally  every- where  in  the  body 


Beams,  Rafters,  Cushions,  and  Servants.  53 

except  between  the  air-cells  of  the  lungs,  in  the  Lobes  of  the 
ears,  and  in  the  upper  eyelids. 

Beside  normal  fat  there  is  what  is  known  as  pathological 
fat.  Normal  fat  is  designed  to  pad  the  body,  and,  like  a 
camel's  hump,  to  feed  it  in  time  of  need;  for  many  a  plump 
body  escapes  at  last,  hollow-eyed  and  exhausted,  from  a  te- 
dious illness  which  it  never  would  have  survived  if  it  had  not 
been  for  the  reserve-commissary  department  in  its  adipose 
tissue.  The  fat  of  disease  is  a  vastly  different  thing,  for  it 
is  not  available  fat,  but  fat  that  comes  from  the  change  of 
muscle  into  useless  tissue.  The  pathologists  call  this  fatty 
degeneration,  and  it  is  well  named;  for  a  muscle  so  changed 
has  degenerated  into  a  substance  that  is  unable  longer  to 
properly  perform  its  duties.  If  such  change  takes  place  in 
the  muscles  of  the  heart  they  may  suddenly  refuse  to  con- 
tract, and  death  inevitably  result.  More  frequently  they 
perform  their  work  with  increasing  difficulty,  making  loco- 
motion and  work  almost  impossible,  until  the  same  result  is 
obtained.  If  such  fatty  degeneration  takes  place  in  the 
walls  of  a  blood-vessel  they  may  suddenly  rupture  and  the 
person  die  instantly  of  apoplexy,  or  be  stricken  with  paraly- 
sis and  drag  along  a  precarious  existence  for  a  term  of  years. 
It  is  a  well-known  fact  that  malt  liquors  often  enormously 
fatten  those  who  freely  imbibe  them;  but  it  should  also  be 
remembered  that  this  fattening  is  largely  of  the  pathological 
variety,  for  there  is  in  these  cases  not  only  an  abnormal  de- 
position of  fat  from  the  superfluous  hydrocarbons  taken 
Digestion,  Chapter  IV),  but  there  is  also  fatty  degenera- 
tion of  tissue,  and  consequent  increased  liability  to  death 
from  heart  disease  and  apoplexy.  So  well  known  is  this  that 
many  life  insurance  companies  refuse  to  take  risks  on  the 
lives  of  those  who  work  in  breweries  or  largely  use  malt 
liquors.  Cuts,  wounds,  and  bruises  upon  such  persons  from 
similar  reasons  are  very  difficult  to  heal,  and  there  is  no  one 
upon  whom  a  surgeon  more  dreads  to  operate  than  one  of 
these  beer-bloated  objects. 

Beer,  it  should  be  remembered,  cannot  make  muscles  or 


54  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

strength.  It  may  and  does  benumb  the  faculties,  and  fatten; 
but  this  fattening  is  useless,  and  even  harmful,  unless  it  is 

oik's  ambition  to  transform  his  body  into  adipocere  after 
death.     Adipocere  is  the  name  given  to  an  ammoniacal  soap 

into  which  the  fats  of  the  body  are  sometimes  converted 
after  death.  This  is  especially  prone  to  happen  in  the  case 
of  fleshy  bodies  buried  in  moist  ground  and  excluded  from 
the  atmosphere.  Such  bodies  do  not  putrefy,  but  are  slowly 
transmuted  into  a  yellowish  white,  cheesy  substance,  unctu- 
ous and  soapy  to  the  touch.  Such  cases  are  rare,  and  cer- 
tainly present  no  inducement  to  beer-drinking,  even  though 
these  corpses  are  said  to  have  been  converted  into  a  very  fail- 
variety  of  toilet  soap  by  a  sacrilegious  Frenchman. 

Moreover,  it  has  been  clearly  shown,  by  actual  experiment, 
that  even  a  single  glass  of  porter  diminishes  muscular  contrac- 
tilitv.  A  half  pint  of  beer  may  make  man  feel  as  if  he  could 
lift  a  ton,  but  when  placed  on  trial  in  the  gymnasium  it  will  be 
found  that  his  lifting  power  is  always  less.  Push  it  a  little 
further,  and  the  lifting  power  disappears  entirely,  for  the 
man  is  poisoned — or  intoxicated;  for  the  words  mean  exactly 
the  same.  Muscles  poisoned  with  alcohol  are  always  para- 
lyzed to  a  greater  or  less  extent. 

Paralysis  is  a  loss  of  muscular  power,  either  temporary  or 
permanent.  A  temporary  paralysis  may  be  produced  in  any 
of  the  voluntary  muscles  by  striking  them  sufficiently  hard 
across  their  long  diameter.  Paralysis,  however,  usually  oc- 
curs in  a  muscle  from  some  trouble  with  the  nervous  apparatus, 
upon  which  it  relies  for  the  necessary  directions  for  contrac- 
tion. If  for  any  reason  the  nerve  wires  become  interfered 
with,  the  waiting  muscle  at  the  other  end  grows  weary  of 
the  delay  and,  failing  to  get  its  fair  share  of  the  body's 
nutriment,  like  all  other  idle  beings  begins  to  waste  away. 
Hence  it  is  that  a  paralyzed  limb  is  smaller  than  its  sound 
mate;  not  because  there  is  necessarily  disease  in  the  mus- 
cle, but  because  its  disuse  necessarily  brings  wasting. 
In  a  measure  the  same  is  true  of  every  muscle  disused  from 
whatever  cause.     Hence  the  great  need  for  systematic  exer- 


Beams,  Rafters,  Cushions,  and  Servants.  55 

cise  for  all  the  muscles.  An  unused  muscle  is  a  starved 
muscle,  and  starvation  inevitably  brings  emaciation.  It 
is  a  stingy  master  who  starves  a  willing  servant,  and  no 
one  was  ever  better  served  than  we  by  our  five  hundred 
odd  battalions  of  muscular  disks;  but  they  must,  to  perform 
efficient  work,  be  well  fed  and  cared  for  or  they  soon  lose 
their  cunning.  The  foods  that  are  necessary  to  build  up  the 
muscles  will  be  spoken  of  more  in  detail  in  a  succeeding 
chapter;  but  it  should  be  remembered  that  no  amount  of 
food  can  take  the  place  of  judicious  exercise. 

With  our  modern  civilization  and  labor-saving  machinery 
we  find  it  necessary  to  resort  to  calisthenics,  massage,  and 
gymnastics  to  supply  what  is  lacking  in  our  way  of  living.  All 
are  excellent  in  place,  and  so  greatly  needed  by  the  present 
generation  that,  by  the  aid  of  Dr.  W.  G.  Anderson,  an  Ap- 
pendix has  been  added  to  this  book  for  the  purpose  of  giving 
specific  directions  for  the  physical  development  of  any  part 
of  the  body  that  may  be  deficient.  The  needs  of  such  sys- 
tematic cultivation  may  be  seen  by  looking  over  any  miscel- 
laneous audience  in  this  country.  Bright  eyes,  intelligent 
faces,  and  quick  wit  may  be  met  with  on  every  side;  but  a 
well-developed  body  can  hardly  be  found.  Almost  every 
vocation  dwarfs  or  disfigures  the  body  in  some  way,  so  much 
so  that  a  skillful  surgeon  can  generally  tell  what  a  man's 
business  is  from  the  marks  it  leaves  upon  his  body,  unless  he 
devotes  some  time  daily  to  its  symmetrical  development. 
William  Blaikie,  in  his  JToio  to  Get  /Strong,  claims  that  ten 
minutes  a  day,  preferably  either  just  before  breakfast  or  at 
bed-time,  is  amply  sufficient  for  this  purpose;  and  the  results 
obtained  by  Professors  Maclaren  and  Anderson  amply  bear 
out  this  statement.  No  one  is  too  busy  to  take  that  amount 
of  time  daily  for  the  care  of  the  body,  and  no  investment  of 
time  pays  better,  in  the  hardest  American  sense;  for,  as  has 
been  well  said  by  Herbert  Spencer,  the  first  requisite  for 
(continued)  success  is  that  a  man  should  be  a  good  animal. 

This  is  so  often  forgotten  in  our  zeal  for  book  knowledge 
that  it  will  bear  repetition.     A  dilapidated  body  is  no  more 


56  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

a  help  to  religion  than  any  other  dilapidated  house  to  wor- 
ship in,  and  we  may  he  as  much  to  blame  for  the  body  as  the 
house.  Muscles  are  tools  ready  prepared  for  use,  and  they 
must  be  employed  or  they  rust.  How  they  then  damage  the 
body  will  be  further  explained  in  the  chapter  on  Moth,  Rust, 
and  Microbes.  Such  damage  is  as  criminal  as  willful  misuse 
of  a  friend's  property,  and  as  foolish  as  cutting  shingles  from 
one's  own  roof  for  kindling  wood.  Fine  tools  deserve  line  care, 
and  daintier  tools  than  muscles  never  yet  have  been  designed. 
Work  is  not  the  curse  laid  upon  Adam,  for  before  the  fall  he 
was  set  to  dress  and  keep  the  garden.  It  is  our  unwilling- 
ness to  work  that  constitutes  its  grievance.  Our  subterfuges 
to  escape  from  it  are  but  another  instance  of  our  folly;  for 
the  greater  our  success  in  this  direction  the  greater  our  un- 
happiness. 

We  often  learn  much  of  the  value  of  a  substance  from  the 
care  taken  in  its  packing.  From  the  great  care  that  has 
been  taken  to  wrap  in  sheathing  each  fiber  and  muscle  it 
seems  as  if  this  held  true  of  these  patient  servants  of  ours. 
First,  each  fiber  has  its  own  particular  sheath  (sarcolemma), 
in  which  the  piles  of  disks  are  held  as  coins  in  a  long  purse  ; 
then  these  sheaths  are  bound  together  into  larger  bundles  by 
a  large  sheath  (perimysium),  and  lastly,  the  muscles  are  held 
together  by  a  loose  frame-work  of  areolar  tissue  and  firmer 
fascia — bandages — for  the  word  really  means  that.  It  has 
been  well  chosen,  too,  for  no  Egyptian  mummy  with  its  mul- 
titudinous yards  of  linen  was  ever  bandaged  more  skillfully 
than  is  the  human  body  with  its  many  fascia,  superficial  and 
deep.  See  Chapter  I.  Fascia  rolled  in  a  hard  white  cord  is 
usually  called  tendon  or  sinew,  which  are  the  strings  by 
which  muscles  are  fastened  to  the  bones.  The  tendons  are 
exceedingly  tough,  and  will  support  a  weight  large  in  pro- 
portion to  their  size,  but  once  raptured  they  are  slow  to  heal. 
Ligaments,  except  in  name,  are  the  same  as  tendons  and  are 
designed  to  hold  the  articular  surfaces  of  bones  together 
and  thus  prevent  their  dislocation  or  separation.  Violent 
.stretching  of  these  ligaments  gives  rise  to  what  are  known 


Beams,  Rafters,  Cushions,  and  Servants.         57 

popularly  as  sprains,  and  which  are  often  exceedingly  slow 
to  recover  unless  the  joint  is  copiously  bathed  with  hot 
water,  and  put  as  perfectly  as  possible  at  rest.  Dislocations 
and  fractures  require  the  surgeon's  aid. 

To  one  interested  in  mechanics,  a  careful  study  of  the 
joints  of  the  body  would  well  repay  the  time  spent  upon  it, 
for  there  are  found  in  the  body  hinge  joints  (elbow),  ball 
and  socket  (hip),  wedge  joints,  and  most  of  the  forms  of 
mortice  known  to  the  carpenter.  Probably  no  simpler  or 
more  efficient  piece  of  joining  was  ever  designed  than  the 
method  adopted  for  binding  together  the  bones  of  the  fore- 
arm, which  are  so  arranged  that  they  allow  both  rotary  and 
angular  motion.  This  is  done  by  making  a  hinge  joint  in 
the  expanded  end  of  one  bone  (ulna)  at  the  elbow,  and 
grooving  the  same  so  that  the  rounded  head  of  the  second 
(radius)  rolls  over  it  like  a  wheel,  while  at  the  wrist  the 
expansion  is  reversed. 

In  fact,  there  is  not  a  joint  or  a  bone  in  the  body  which  is 
not  well  worth  more  careful  study  than  it  is  possible  to  give 
it  in  this  chapter.  Human  and  comparative  osteology  have 
taught  us  all  that  is  known  of  the  former  inhabitants  of  this 
earth.  Through  all  of  them  runs  a  general  plan  of  structure 
and  increasing  perfection  until  we  come  to  man,  whom  the 
Creator  himself  pronounced  good.  The  ground-plan,  so  to 
speak,  on  which  man  and  all  animals  are  constructed  is  that 
of  a  double  tube,  and  the  lower  the  animal  the  more  nearly 
equal  and  parallel  are  the  tubes.  In  the  anterior  tube  the 
lungs  and  abdominal  organs  are  held,  in  the  posterior  the 
nervous  system.  These  tubes,  or  cavities,  in  man  differ  widely 
in  size,  the  anterior  cavity,  except  in  the  head,  where  it  holds 
the  brain,  being  very  much  the  larger,  as  is  well  shown  in 
the  cut  on  page  58. 

The  larger  of  these  cavities  is  bisected  by  a  partition 
or  diaphragm,  which  divides  it  into  two  parts;  namely, 
the  thoracic  and  abdominal  cavities.  Each  of  these  cavities 
has  :i  separate  entrance,  both  of  which  can  be  found  in  the 
mouth;  that  Leading  to  the  thoracic  cavity  being  known  as 
3* 


58 


Physiology  and  IIy<;iene. 


the  windpipe,  directly  behind  which  can  be  found  the  tube 
((esophagus),  leading  to  the  lower  or  abdominal  cavity. 


Cross  Section  of  Thorax  at  the  Level  of  the  Shoulders. 
Anterior  or  thoracic  cavity,    b.  Vertebral  cavity. 

The  thoracic  cavity,  or  chest,  as  it  is  usually  called,  lies 
entirely  above  the  diaphragm,  and  contains  the  right  and  left 
lungs,  and  between  them  the  heart  and  great  vessels  soon  to 
be  described.  Their  approximate  situation  may  be  fixed  by 
remembering  that  a  bullet  would  pierce  the  heart  if  it  entered 
the  chest  at  a  right  angle  just  above  the  fifth  rib,  and  to  the 
middle  line  just  above  the  left  nipple.  A  wound  exactly  in 
the  middle  line  would  involve  both  the  heart  and  great  vessels, 
and  if  to  the  right  would  escape  the  heart  but  pass  through 
the  right  lung.  A  knife  thrust  into  the  lower  intercostal 
spaces  would  wound  the  base  of  the  lung  during  inspiration, 
but  if  done  during  expiration  the  lung  itself  might  escape 
injury.     See  page  40. 

The  abdominal  cavity,  as  its  name  indicates,  is  located  in 
the  abdomen.  It  is  the  largest  cavity  in  the  body,  and  en- 
tirely separated  from  the  thorax  by  the  diaphragm.  Anat- 
omists divide  the  abdomen  by  imaginary  lines  into  nine 
regions,  which  are  numbered  in  Plate  I.  The  upper  tier 
of  these,  namely,  1,  3,  and  7,  contain  some  of  the  most 
important  of  the  abdominal  viscera;  namely,  the  liver, 
stomach,  and  spleen,  all  of  which  lie  directly  beneath  the 
diaphragm.     The  spleen,  concerning   whose   uses   we   have 


.'.•■■::-' 


>\ 


.. ,-• 


fi 


Beams,  Rafters,  Cushions,  and  Servants.         59 

much  yet  to  learn,  lies  to  the  left  of  the  stomach  in  region 
V,  and  is  an  oval  body,  weighing  four  to  eight  ounces,  well 
supplied  with  blood;  but  what  it  does  there  is  yet  a  mystery 
to  physiologists.     In  regard  to  the  stomach  and  liver  we  are 


Liver,  Stomach,  Spleen,  and  Branches  of  C<eliac  Axis. 

1.  Liver.  2.  Its  transverse  fissure.  3.  Gall-bladder.  4.  Stomach.  5.  Esophagus. 
6.  Pylorus.  7.  Duodenum,  descending  portion.  8.  Transverse  portion  of  the  duode- 
num.   9.  Pancreas.    10.  Spleen.    11.  Abdominal  aorta.    12.  Coeliac  axis. 

much  better  informed.  The  latter  is  the  largest  gland  of  the 
body,  and  will  be  more  fully  spoken  of  in  Chapter  V.  The 
stomach  lies  between  the  spleen  and  liver,  whose  lobes  par- 
tially cover  the  pyloric  end  of  this  irregular  bag,  which  has 
two  openings;  namely,  the  cardiac,  through  which  food  passes 
from  the  oesophagus,  and  the  pylorus  (gateway),  out  of  which 
the  food  passes  when  prepared  for  digestion.  The  stomach, 
therefore,  is  the  kitchen  of  the  body,  and  its  duties  and  trials 
will  be  discussed  in  the  following  chapter. 


GO  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 


CHAPTER   III. 

DINING-ROOM,    COOKS,    AND    SCULLIONS. 

The  kitchen  is  generally  the  least  interesting  place  in  a  fine 
house,  unless  you  expect  to  make  it  your  home.  Then  it  sud- 
denly acquires  a  personal  interest  to  the  good  housewife  not 
to  be  exceeded  by  any  room  in  the  house.  Its  minutest 
appointments  and  deficiencies,  if  any,  are  well  known  and 
intelligently  remedied  as  soon  as  possible.  So  it  should  be 
with  the  culinary  department  of  the  body,  for  we  needs  must 
eat  twice  or  thrice  daily,  and  our  comfort  more  largely 
depends  upon  the  kitchen  than  the  parlor.  Many  of  the  proc- 
esses below  stairs  are  not  appetizing  to  the  looker-on,  and 
the  same  may  be  said  of  digestion ;  but  no  lady  is  truly  mis- 
tress of  her  house  until  she  thoroughly  understands  what 
should  be  done  in  the  kitchen.  Similarly  we  need  not  keep 
constantly  before  our  eyes  the  hideous  charts  of  the  digestive 
organs,  which,  perhaps  more  than  all  other  causes,  have  made 
the  study  of  physiology  repulsive,  but  the  why  and  wherefore 
of  cooking  and  eating  should  be  known  to  all.  Ignorance  on 
this  point  destroys  more  infant  life  than  all  the  epidemics 
combined,  and  to  one  compelled  to  live  with  a  confirmed 
dyspeptic  it  is  usually  a  source  of  regret  that  indigestion 
later  in  life  is  not  similarly  fatal. 

Dyspepsia  is  usually  due  to  intemperance,  not  in  alcoholic 
liquors  alone,  but  in  improper  food,  where  temperance  is  as 
greatly  needed  as  in  regard  to  liquor.  "  Them  religious,"  said 
a  colored  caterer,  "eat  awful."  Saint  Paul's  injunction, 
"  to  knowledge,  add  temperance  "  was  given  not  to  the  disso- 
lute but  to  the  Christian  Church,  which  must  obey  it  or  suf- 
fer many  wretched  hours  of  gloom  and  dyspepsia.  For 
intelligent  temperance,  knowledge  is  first  requisite,  and  this 


DINING-ROOM    AND    SCULLIONS.  61 

can  only  be  obtained  by  a  careful  study  of  what  changes  are 
required  in  food  to  make  it  available  for  the  uses  of  the 
body. 

Food  is  whatever  feeds  the  body,  and  hence  in  its  widest 
sense  it  includes  air  and  water,  but  as  ordinarily  understood 
will  be  used  here  as  referring  only  to  such  foods  as  require 
digestion  in  the  body. 

Food  ought  to  embrace  all  the  elements  found  within 
the  body,  which  chemists  tell  us  are  fifteen  in  number.  These, 
according  to  Professor  Atwater's  table,  exist  there  in  the 
following  amounts  for  a  man  weighing  148  pounds: 

Constituents  of  the  Body. 

f  Oxygen 92.4        pounds. 

Hydrogen 14.6  " 

5  Gases -j  Nitrogen 4.6  " 

Chlorine 0.12  " 

[Fluorine 0.02  " 

f  Carbon 33 .30  " 

3  Metalloids {  Phosphorus 1 .40  " 

[Sulphur 0.24  " 

f  Calcium 2.80  " 

Potassium 0.34  <; 

|  Sodium 0.12  " 

7  Metals {  Magnesi urn 0 .  04  " 

|  Iron 0.02  " 

Manganese.                                .  )   ^^ 


[  Copper. 


\ 


None  of  these  elements  except  the  gases,  oxygen,  hydro- 
gen, and  nitrogen,  and  these  to  only  a  limited  amount, 
exist  in  a  free  or  uncombined  state  in  the  body.  The  free 
oxygen  found  in  the  lungs  and  elsewhere  comes  chiefly  from 
inspired  air,  whose  function  will  be  discussed  in  the  chapter 
on  Sewerage  and  Ventilation.  Neither  it  nor  free  nitrogen 
or  hydrogen  is  usually  considered  food,  although  in  combi- 
nation they  constitute  with  carbon  by  far  the  most  important 
part  of  all  we  eat. 

Although  the  body  is  built  up  of  the  fifteen  elements 
given  above,  it  is  as  impossible  to  nourish  it  with  them  in 
their  free  or  elementary  condition  as  was  the  crazy  French- 
man's scheme  of  creating  a  man  by  simply  revolving  in  a  vast 


62  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

cylinder  the  exact  quantity  of  each  element  found  in  a  human 
body.  He  hoped  by  some  happy  chance  that  the  exact  num- 
ber of  atoms  would  arrange  themselves  just  so  as  to  construct 
a  body  if  he  could  but  keep  them  in  revolution  sufficiently 
long.  That  was  many  years  ago,  but  as  the  new  Adam  has 
not  yet  appeared  it  is  fair  to  conclude  that  the  learned 
savant  has  failed  in  his  experiment. 

A  similar  attempt  to  feed  a  man  on  the  amount  of  carbon, 
oxygen,  and  phosphorus  excreted  each  day  -would,  be  equally 
disappointing,  for  the  chemical  elements  are  not  food,  un- 
less combined  by  chemical  affinity.  Chemical  affinity,  or 
chemism,  is  the  force  which  holds  elementary  atoms  together. 
Without  this  power  in  nature  we  should  know  but  seventy 
substances  instead  of  the  infinite  variety  which  we  see  on  all 
sides. 

If  our  present  understanding  of  chemistry  is  correct,  all  of 
the  infinite  variety  of  substances  known  to  man  are  com- 
binations, more  or  less  intricate,  of  about  seventy  original 
elements.  By  no  means  all  of  these  combinations  are  fitted 
for  food.  In  fact,  but  comparatively  few  are  yet  used,  and 
these  are  not  the  simpler  inorganic  compounds,  but  more  com- 
plex substances  found  either  in  the  animal  or  vegetable  king- 
dom. A  body  has  to  be  built  very  much  as  a  house,  for  no 
man  takes  so  much  free  oxygen,  so  much  carbon,  and  so 
much  silicon  to  construct  a  brown-stone  front,  but  utilizes 
the  requisite  carbon,  silicon,  etc.,  in  the  form  of  bricks, 
board,  and  stone,  which  are  complex  chemical  compounds. 
So  with  our  bodies,  we  should  starve  to  death  if  we  were  fed 
on  powdered  carbon  and  gaseous  oxygen,  hydrogen,  and 
nitrogen  ;  but  given  the  same  substances  in  meat,  bread,  and 
butter,  Ave  laugh  and  grow  fat. 

Huxley  estimated  the  amount  of  food  required  daily,  thus: 
lean  beefsteak,  5,000  grains;  bread,  6,000  grains;  milk,  7,000 
grains;  potatoes,  3,000  grains;  butter,  600  grains;  water 
about  6  pounds  taken  both  as  food  and  drink  to  supply  the 
daily  loss  of  the  system.  A  large  portion  of  the  water  required 
for  the  system  comes  from  the  food,  as  may  be  seen  from  the 


DlNING-RoOM    AND    SCULLIONS. 


63 


annexed  table  of  Professor  Atwater,  which  shows  that  even 
Avhat  we  consider  solid  food  contains  from  fifty  to  eighty 
per  cent,  of  water. 


COMPOSITION  OF  ANIMAL  FOODS. 
Flesh,  etc.,  Freed  from  Bone,  Shell,  and  other  Eefuse. 


Kinds  of  Food  Materials. 


(Italics  indicate  European  analysis : 
the  rest  are  American.) 


Meats,  Fresh. 

Beef,  side,  well  fattened 

Beef,  Jean,  nearly  free  from  fat, 

Beef,  round,  rather  lean 

Beef,  sirloin,  rather  fat 

Beef,  neck,  "second  cut " 

Beef,  liver 

Beef,  tongue , 

Beef,  heart 

Veal,  lean 

Veal,  rather  fat. 

Mutton,  side,  well  fattened. .. . 

Mutton,  leg 

Mutton,  shoulder 

Mutton,  loin  (chop) 

Meats,  Prepared. 

Dried  Beef 

Corned  Beef,  rather  lean 

Smoked  Ham 

Pork,  Bacon,  salted 

Fowl. 

Chicken,  rather  lean 

Turkey,  medium  fitness 

Goose,  fat 

Dairy  Products.  EGGS,  ETC 

Cow's  Milk , 

Cow's  Milk,  skimmed 

CW'.s-  Mill:,  buttermilk 

Cow's  Milk,  whey , 

Cheese,  whole  milk 

cheese,  Bkimmed  milk 

Butter 

Hen's  Eggs 

Fish,  etc. 

Flounder,  whole 

Haddock,  dressed , 

Blueftsh,  dressed 


p 

a 

Is 
o 
H 

Nutrients. 

m  -= 

-  .5 
.  -  « 

■5 
>-* 

o 

a 
O 

Perct. 

< 

Per  ct. 

Per  ct. 

Per  ct. 

Per  it. 

Per  ct. 

54.6 

45.4 

17.2 

27.2 

... 

1.0 

76.0 

24.0 

21.8 

0.9 

.  •    • 

1.3 

66.7 

33.3 

23.0 

9.0 

•   •    • 

1.3 

60.0 

40.0 

20.0 

19.0 

1.0 

64.5 

35.5 

19.9 

14.5 

1.1 

69.5 

30.5 

20.1 

5.4 

3.5 

1.5 

63.5 

36.5 

17.4 

18.0 

1.1 

56.5 

43  5 

16.3 

26.2 

1.0 

78.8 

21.2 

19.9 

0.8 

,  .  . 

0.5 

72.3 

27.7 

18.9 

7.5 

1.3 

45.9 

54.1 

14.7 

38.7 

•  .  • 

0.7 

61.8 

38.2 

■18.3 

19.0 

•  >  • 

0.9 

58.6 

41.4 

18.1 

22.4 

6.9 

49.3 

50.7 

15.0 

35.0 

0.7 

58.6 

41.4 

30.3 

4.4 

6.7 

58.1 

41.9 

13.3 

26.6 

•  ■  . 

2.0 

41.5 

58.5 

16.7 

39.1 

2.7 

10.0 

90.0 

3.0 

80.5 

6.5 

72.2 

27.8 

24.4 

2.0 

1.4 

66.2 

33.8 

23.8 

8.7 

1.3 

38.0 

62.0 

15.9 

45.6 

0.5 

87.4 

12.6 

3.4 

3.8 

4.8 

0.7 

90.7 

9.3 

3.1 

0.7 

4.8 

0.7 

90.3 

9,7 

4.1 

0.9 

4.0 

0.7 

93  2 

6.8 

0.9 

0.2 

5.0 

0.7 

31.2 

68.8 

27.1 

35.4 

2.4 

3.9 

41.3 

58.7 

38.3 

6.8 

9.0 

4.6 

9.0 

91.0 

1.0 

87.5 

0.5 

2.0 

73.1 

26.9 

13.4 

11.8 

0.7 

1.0 

84.2 

15.8 

13.8 

0.7 

1.3 

SI. 4 

18.6 

17.1 

0.3 

1.2 

78.5 

21.5 

19.0 

1.2 

#. . 

1.3 

64 


Physiology  and  Hygiene. 


Kinds  of  Food  Materials. 


{Italics  indicate  European  analysis; 
the  rest  are  American. 


Fish,  etc. 

Cod.  dressed 

Whitefish,  whole 

Shad,  whole 

Mackerel,  average,  whole. 
Salmon,  whole 


Salt  Cod 

Smoked  Herring, 
Salt  Mackerel. . . 


Oysters 87.2 


Per  ct. 

S2.G 
69.8 
70.G 
71. G 
63. G 

5:;.  8 
34.5 
42.2 


Per  ct. 

17.4 
30.2 
29.4 
28.4 
3G4 

26. 1 
53.8 
47.2 

12.8 


Nutrients. 


o  c 


Per 

15. 

22. 
18. 
18. 
21, 

21. 
36 
22, 


6.0 


Per  <t. 

04 
6.5 
9.5 
8.2 
13.4 

0.3 

15.8 
22.6 


1.2      3.6 


Per  ct. 
1.2 

1.6 
1.4 
1.4 
1.4 


Salt 
20.1 
11.7 
10.6 


4.1 

1.6 


2.0 


VEGETABLE  FOODS. 


'S 

Nutrients 

Kinds  of  Foods. 

v  "2 

s'3 
o  = 

si  1 

•5 

O 

o 

is 

Per  ct. 
0.2 

1.2 
0.1 
1.9 
.6 
0.4 
0.3 
0.3 
0.1 
0.3 
0.9 
0.8 
1.3 
02 
3.7 
5.4 
0.8 
1.1 
0.9 
1.2 
1.8 
0.9 

Foods. 
Wheat- flour,  average* 

Per  ct. 
11.6 

13.5 

8.3 
13.0 
10.4 
13.1 
11.8 
13.5 
11.2 
10.6 

7.7 
14.5 
13.5 
12.4 
13.7 
15.0 
75.5 
75.8 
91.2 
87.9 
90.0 
90.4 

Per  ct. 
11.1 

13.5 

8.6 

11.7 

11.9 

6.7 

8.4 

6.5 

3.3 

4.8 

15.1 

9.1 

8.3 

7.4 

13.2 

22.9 

2.0 

1.5 

1.0 

1.0 

1.9 

2.5 

Per  ct. 
1.1 
2.0 
0.6 
1.7 

1.7 
0.8 
0.7 
1.3 
0.3 
0.6 
7.1 
3.8 
0.4 
0.4 
2.1 
1.8 
0.2 
0.4 
0.2 
0.2 
0.2 
0.4 

Per  ct. 

75.4 
78.5 
68.3 
69.9 

74 
78.3 
77.8 
77.3 
84.7 
83.1 
67.2 
69.2 
77.1 
79.2 
53.7 
52.4 
20.7 
20.0 

6.0 

8.9 

4.9 

5.0 

Per  ct. 
0.6 

Wheat-flour,  maximum* 

1.5 

Wheat-Hour,  minimum* 

0.3 

Graham-flour  (wheat) 

1.8 

Cracked  Wheat 

1.4 

Pearled  Barley 

0.7 
1.0 

Buckwheat-flour 

1.1 

Buckwheat  "farina ;' 

0.4 

Buckwheat  "  groats  " 

0.6 

Oatmeal 

2.0 

Maize-meal 

1.6 

Hominy 

0.4 

Rice 

0.4 

Beans 

3.6 

Peas 

2.5 

1.0 

Sweet  Potatoes 

1.2 

Turnips 

0.7 

Carrots 

0.8 

Cabbage 

1.2 

0.8 

*  Of  analyses  of  American  flours. 


DINING-ROOM   AND    SCULLIONS. 


65 


ad 

Nutrients. 

Kinds  of  Foods. 

£  J 

fa 

-5 

o   • 
5  v 

J3 

tc 
•a 

c 
o 

Per  cl. 
1.1 

1.3 
1.5 
4.3 
0.0 
0.0 

Foods. 

Perct. 

95.2 

90.0 

84.8 

83.0 

15.1 

2.2 

32.7 

34.2 

30.0 

8.0 

8.3 

3.9 

4.9 

7.9 

13.1 

Per  ct. 
1.1 

0.7 

0.4 

0.4 

1.2 

0.3 

8.9 

9.5 

8.4 

10.3 

10.7 

12.3 

10.4 

12.4 

9.0 

Per  ct. 
0.G 
0.1 
0.0 
0.0 

0.0 
0.0 
1.9 
1.4 
0.5 
9.4 
9.9 
48 
13.7 
44 
0.3 

Per  ct. 

1.4 
7.3 
12.8 
12.0 
83.3 
96.7 

Terct. 
0.6 

0.6 

0.5 

0.3 

0.4 

0.8 

53.5 
53.3 

59.7 
70.5 
68.7 
76.5 
69.6 
74.2 

1.0 

1.6 

1.4 

1.8 

"  Ovster  "  Crackers 

2.4 
2.5 

1.4 

Pilot  (bread)  Crackers 

1.1 

7 

3.8 

0.8 

*  From  flour  of  about  average  composition. 

According  to  a  recent  French  statistician,  a  man  living  for 
fifty  years  eats  during  that  tim$-  79,000  pounds  of  bread, 
16,000  of  meat,  4,000  of  vegetables,  eggs,  and  fish,  and  re- 
quires 7,000,000  gallons  of  water;  for  fifty-nine  per  cent,  of  the 
entire  body  is  composed  of  water,  which  must,  therefore,  be 
introduced  into  the  system  in  about  that  proportion,  in  our 
foods,  to  keep  the  organism  in  proper  working  order,  not 
only  keeping  the  tissues  moist  and  succulent,  but  by  wash- 
in  or  out  effete  matters  as  well. 

Water,  as  the  most  important  of  the  inorganic  foods, 
also  deserves  our  careful  attention,  not  only  because  it 
composes  the  bulk  of  our  bodies,  but  because  it  is  the 
agent  by  which  many  of  the  ills  of  the  house  in  which 
we  live  are  brought  to  pass.  Long  ago  the  human  body 
was  defined  as  forty-five  pounds  of  solid  matter  diffused 
through  five  and  a  half  pails  of  water.  This  is  not  abso- 
lutely  exad,  but  the  annexed  table  shows  that  water  is 
found  in  all  of  the  tissues  though  in  widely  varying  pro- 
portions: 


06  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

PARTS  IN  A  THOUSAND  OF  WATER  AND  SOLIDS.     {Besanez.) 

Water.   Solids.  Water.  Solids. 

Enamel  of  the  teeth 2  998  Nerves 780  220 

Teeth 100  900  Blood 791  209 

Bonos 220  780  Cellular  tissue 796  204 

Fat 299  701  Kidneys 827  173 

Elastic  tissue. 496  504  Bile 864  136 

Cartilage 550  450  Milk 801  109 

Liver 693  307  Chyle 928  72 

Spinal  cord 667  333  Mucus 034  60 

Skin 720  280  Lymph 983  17 

Brain 750  250  Spinal  fluid 088  12 

Muscles 757  243  Saliva 995  5 

Spleen 758  242  Sweat 998  2 

If,  therefore,  all  the  water  could  be  extracted  from  a  body 
it  would  weigh  less  than  half  of  what  it  does  during  life,  and 
if  kept  from  moisture  it  might  be  preserved  almost  indefi- 
nitely. Buckland,  in  his  Cariosities  of  Natural  History, 
tells  the  following  story: 

"  In  the  College  of  Surgeons  is  the  dried  body  of  a  poor 
boy  that  was  found  bricked  up  in  a  vault  in  a  London  church. 
This  boy  was  about  twelve  years  of  age.  He  was  found  erect, 
with  his  clothes  on,  in  a  va*ilt  underneath  Saint  Botolph's, 
Aldgate,  old  church,  in  the  year  1742,  and  is  supposed 
to  have  been  shut  in  during  the  plague  in  London,  in 
1665,  as  the  vault  had  not  been  opened  since  that  period 
till  it  was  pulled  down.  This  body  weighs  only  eighteen 
pounds." 

A  man  loses  about  two  quarts  of  water  a  day,  about  a 
quarter  of  which  passes  off  by  the  lungs,  and  the  remainder 
by  the  skin  and  kidneys.    (See  Sewerage.) 

To  supply  this  loss  we  are  required  to  drink  in  foods  and 
liquids  about  one  thousand  pounds  per  year,  or  during  an 
average  life-time  a  man  drinks  up  an  800-foot  lake.  All 
of  this  is  not  derived  solely  from  liquids,  for  it  is  found 
in  grains  that  are  usually  spoken  of  as  dry.  It  abounds 
in  meats,  vegetables,  and  fruits.  We  obtain  about  thirty- 
eight  per  cent,  of  it  in  bread,  seventy  per  cent,  in  lean  meat, 
from  seventy  to  ninety  per  cent,  in  vegetables,  and  even 
more  in  some  fruits.     Indeed,  if  we  used  all  these  in  a  natural 


DINING-ROOM    AND    SCULLIONS.  67 

state,  there  would  not  be  need  of  very  much  additional  sup- 
ply. Extra  water,  as  we  need,  we  derive  from  the  earth  or 
from  the  sky.  From  either  source  by  care  we  may  secure 
pure  and  most  acceptable  water  for  the  needs  of  the  body 
(see  Chapter  VI),  but  this  is  a  different  matter  from  pouring 
down  a  large  amount  of  fluid  with  each  meal,  as  is  the  Amer- 
ican custom.  As  more  than  one  half  of  our  food  is  water  we 
need  very  little  while  eating,  when  its  use  is  mischievous  in 
that  it  is  used  as  a  substitute  for  saliva  (page  78)  and  still 
further  interferes  with  digestion  by  unduly  diluting  the  gas- 
tric juice.  Even  when  this  is  not  the  case  large  draughts  of 
water  in  hot  weather  tend  to  produce  profuse  perspiration, 
and  thus  aggravate  the  very  evil  it  is  designed  to  relieve. 
Especially  is  this  true  in  the  case  of  ice  water,  whose  use  in- 
evitably produces  dryness  of  the  throat  and  desire  for  more, 
until  the  quantity  seriously  disables  the  stomach,  and  may 
even  produce  death,  when  taken  into  an  over-heated  system. 
Small  draughts  of  water,  slowly  taken,  satisfy  thirst  better 
than  large  ones  quickly  swallowed.  In  fact,  thirst,  or  dry- 
ness of  the  throat,  often  mistaken  for  thirst,  may  be  as  well 
relieved  by  gargling  the  throat  with  hot  water  as  by  drink- 
ing it,  and  thirst,  or  the  general  demand  of  the  body  for 
fluid,  can  be  relieved  without  drinking  at  all.  Injection  of 
fluids,  or  the  application  of  water  to  the  skin,  even  if  it  be 
salt  water,  will  relieve  if  not  entirely  remove  thirst;  a  fact 
well  worth  knowing  in  shipwreck.  In  an  old  book,  published 
in  17G9,  entitled  The  Narrative  of  Captain  Kennedy'' 8  Losing 
His  Vessel,  may  be  found  the  following,  bearing  on  this  sub- 
ject: "I  cannot  conclude  without  making  mention  of  the 
great  advantage  received  from  soaking  my  clothes  twice  a 
day  in  salt  water  and  putting  them  on  without  wringing.  It 
was  a  considerable  time  before  I  could  make  my  people 
comply  with  this  measure,  although  from  seeing  the  good 
effects  produced  they  practiced  it  twice  a  day  of  their  own 
accord.  To  this  I  may  with  justice  lay  my  preservation  and 
that  of  the  six  other  persons  with  me.  Four  persons  in  the 
boat  who  drank  salt  water  went  delirious  and   died."      Prob- 

• 


08  Physiology  axd  Hygiene. 

ably  none  of  the  readers  of  this  will  ever  he  driven  to  Captain 
Kennedy's  strait,  hut  as  we  must  all  drink,  it  is  important  that 
the  water  taken  daily  should  be  sufficient  to  keep  the  kidneys 
well  at  work  and  the  skin  moist  in  hot  weather.  Drink 
sparingly  at  meal-time,  and  drink  pure  water.  The  last  is 
often  the  most  difficult  and  important,  for  there  can  be  but 
little  doubt  that  typhoid  and  cholera  are  usually  introduced 
into  the  system  by  means  of  drinking  water.  In  case  of  the 
last  outbreak  of  cholera  its  spread  is  clearly  traced  by  Dr.  Cut- 
lifTe  to  the  Hindoo  pilgrims  assembled  at  Hurdwar,  a  few 
miles  from  the  spot  where  the  Ganges  escapes  from  the 
Himalayas,  of  whom  a  handful  had  come'  from  a  cholera 
district. 

On  the  12th  of  April  the  three  millions  assembled  to 
bathe  and  drink.  "The  bathing-place  of  the  pilgrims  was 
a  space  six  hundred  and  fifty  feet  long  by  thirty  feet  wide, 
shut  off  from  the  rest  of  the  Ganges  by  rails.  Into  this  long, 
narrow  inclosure  pilgrims  from  all  parts  of  the  encampment 
crowded  as  closely  as  possible  from  early  morn  to  sunset; 
the  water  within  this  space,  during  the  whole  time,  was  thick 
and  dirty — partly  from  the  ashes  of  the  dead  brought  by 
surviving  relatives  to  be  deposited  in  the  water  of  their  river 
god,  and  partly  from  the  washing  of  the  clothes  and  bodies 
of  the  bathers.  Now,  pilgrims  at  the  bathing  ghaut,  after 
entering  the  stream,  dip  themselves  under  the  water  three 
times  or  more,  and  then  drink  of  the  holy  water,  while  say- 
ing their  prayer.  The  drinking  of  the  water  is  never  omitted ; 
and  when  two  or  more  of  the  family  bathe  together,  each 
from  his  own  hand  gives  the  other  water  to  drink.  On  the 
evening  of  the  next  day,  the  13th  of  April,  eight  cases  of 
cholera  were  admitted  into  one  of  the  hospitals  at  Hurdwar. 
By  the  15th,  the  whole  of  this  vast  concourse  of  pilgrims 
had  dispersed,"  carrying  the  cholera  in  every  direction  over 
India;  it  attacked  the  British  troops  along  the  various  routes, 
it  passed  the  northern  frontier,  got  into  Persia,  and  so  on  into 
Europe." 

If  space  allowed,  similarly  well  authenticated  cases  of  the 


DlXIXG-RoOM    AND   ScULLIONS.  69 

spread  of  typhoid  from  particular  wells  or  rivers,  contami- 
nated with  typhoid  excreta,  could  be  given.  But  these  are 
not  necessary,  for  it  is  so  well  proven  that  drinking  water  is 
often  poisonous  that  pore  water  is  now  universally  sought, 
for  large  cities,  at  some  distance  from  them  if  at  all  possible. 
For  such  drinking,  rain,  spring,  river,  lake,  or  well  water  is 
employed,  and  of  these  the  last  is  usually  the  most  objection- 
able. If  it  were  not  for  the  disagreeable  taste  which  rain- 
water acquires  by  standing  in  hogsheads  or  cisterns  it  would 
undoubtedly  be  the  best,  as  it  is  the  purest,  and  in  all  cases  of 
epidemic  disease, where  there  is  the  least  doubt  about  the  purity 
of  the  water  supply,  filtered  rain  water  should  be  used  without 
regard  to  its  taste.  Spring  and  river  water  are  pleasanter  for 
drinking,  from  the  fact  that  they  usually  contain  carbonic 
acid  gas  in  solution — sometimes  as  much  as  one  gallon  to 
twenty-five  of  water — which  imparts  to  them  a  brightness 
and  freshness  which  rain-water  does  not  possess,  for  this  gas 
comes  mainly  from  the  decomposition  of  vegetable  matter  in 
the  earth.  So  long  as  this  is  the  only  substance  found  in 
solution  in  drinking  water  it  does  it  no  hurt,  but  rather  im- 
proves, but  where  carbonic  acid  gas  is  found  in  large  quantity 
with  it  is  generally  joined  an  excess  of  inorganic  salts.  When 
these  are  found  in  smaller  quantities  than  forty  grains  to  the 
gallon  the  water  is  said  to  be  potable,  unless  it  contains  al- 
buminoid ammonia,  or  foul-smelling  gases.  Albuminoid 
ammonia  is  that  contained  in  water,  not  as  free  ammonia,  but 
that  which  maybe  obtained  from  the  nitrogenous  compounds 
held  in  the  water  by  heating  it  with  a  caustic  alkali.  Warm- 
ing water  containing  a  considerable  amount  of  decomposing 
matter  will  cause  it  to  give  disagreeable  odors  which  other- 
wise would  have  escaped  detection;  nor  should  water  thai  is 
fit  for  drinking  give  any  odor  when  in  a  closed  half-filled 
bottle  for  several  days. 

"The  best  water  for  drinking,"  says  Dr.  Hunt,  "is  that 
which  is  mingled  with  pure  air,  which  is  free  from  any  organic 
animal  or  vegetable  matter,  cither  solid  or  gaseous,  and  which 
does  not  hold  in  suspension  or  solution  any  mineral  matter. 


70  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

Water  is  frequently  colored  by  vegetable  matters,  and  yet 
the  amount  is  such  as  to  be  easily  neutralized  or  discharged 
from  the  system  without  evil  effects.     It  is  only  when  veg- 
etable matter  is  in  a  state  of  decay  that  there  is  much  risk. 
The  same  is  true  as  to  animal  matter  or  excretions,  which 
are  in  general  more  dangerous  than  vegetable  matters.     It  is 
chiefly  so  when  undergoing  active  putrefactive  change,  and 
especially  when  it   contains    those  living    vegetable    micro- 
organisms which  are  now  recognized  as  associated  with  dis- 
ease.    It  is   found    that    both    air  and  water  abound  with 
minute  forms  either  of  animal   or  vegetable   life.     To  dis- 
tinguish   them    from    gaseous    products,    they    are    usually 
called   'particulate,'    as   made  up  of   particles.     These    are 
intended  to  be  conservative  of    life  and  health  by  feeding 
and  nourishing  upon  those  things   not  needed  by  man  and 
injurious  to  him.     But  when  air  and  water  are  subjected  to 
very  abnormal  conditions,  and  are  continuously  and  extrav- 
agantly befouled,  either    these  low  forms  of  life    multiply 
to  an  amount  which  nature  cannot  dispose  of,  or  new  and 
virulent  forms   spring  up,   which,  getting    into  the    system 
through  air  or  water,  give  rise  to  specific  forms  of  disease." 
The  taste  of  water  is  not  always  a  safe  guide  to  its  use, 
for  dangerous  drinking  water  may  be  cool  and  sparkling  and 
yet  defiled  with  privy  drainings,  or  other  impurities.     Such 
water  often  becomes  fetid  by  merely  standing,  but  a  better 
and  a  very  simple  test  is  Heisch's,  which  can  be  readily  ap- 
plied in  any  household.     It  consists  of  simply  dissolving  in 
three  quarters  of  a  pint  of  the  suspected  water  half  a  tea- 
spoonful  of  loaf  sugar  and  placing  the  solution  in  a  corked 
pint  bottle  in  a  warm  place  for  a  couple  of  days.     If  at  the 
end  of  that  time  it  is  found  transparent  it  may  be  considered 
fit  for  drinking,  for  if  the  water  had  contained  sufficient  im- 
purities to  produce  fermentation  of  the  sugar,  it  turns  the 
liquid  cloudy  or  turbid.     Furthermore,  safe  water  for  drink- 
ing ought  to  respond  to  such  a  color  test  as  may  be  made  by 
filling  completely  with  the  water  a  large  bottle  made  of  col- 
orless glass ;  look  through  the  water  at  some  black  object ', 


DlNING-RoOM    AND    SCULLIONS.  71 

the  water  should  appear  perfectly  colorless  and  free  from 
suspended  matter.  A  muddy  or  turbid  appearance  indicates 
the  presence  of  soluble  organic  matter  or  of  solid  matter  in 
suspension.  Nor  should  good  water  give  any  odor  when  thus 
tested;  empty  out  some  of  the  water,  leaving  the  bottle 
half  full ;  cork  up  the  bottle  and  place  it  for  a  few  hours  in 
a  warm  place  ;  shake  up  the  water,  remove  the  cork,  and 
critically  smell  the  air  contained  in  the  bottle.  If  it  has  any 
smell,  and  especially  if  the  odor  is  in  the  least  repulsive,  the 
water  should  be  rejected  for  domestic  use.  By  heating  the 
water  to  boiling,  an  odor  is  evolved  sometimes  that  does  not 
otherwise  appear. 

As  a  large  portion  of  the  water  thus  found  unfit  for 
drinking  comes  from  old  wells,  it  might  be  helpful  in  this 
connection  to  call  the  attention  of  the  reader  to  the  conclu- 
sions arrived  at  some  years  ago  by  Mr.  Cutler,  a  chemist 
who  examined  the  water  of  twenty-four  wells  in  New  Bruns- 
wick, N.  J.: 

"  A  well  may  be  considered  as  a  perpendicular  drain,  and 
as  such  we  can  readily  perceive  that  it  becomes  a  receptable 
for  all  surface-water  in  its  vicinity.  One  might  suppose  that 
a  well  dug  in  a  sandy  soil  or  clayey  soil  would  be  thus  sub- 
ject to  impurities,  but  when  constructed  through  rock  or 
shale  it  would  be  entirely  free  from  such  contamination. 
This,  however,  is  not  always  the  case,  for  although  rock  may 
form  some  protection,  still  impure  waters  are  often  found  in 
wells  built  entirely  through  stone. 

"  The  water  drawn  from  the  surface  of  the  well  is  often 
quite  pure,  while  that  drawn  from  the  bottom  is  greatly 
contaminated,  showing  that  good  and  bad  waters  may  exist 
in  a  well  at  the  same  time,  owing  to  the  difference  in  their 
specific  gravities. 

"  Although  the  soil  in  which  cess-pools  are  dug  may  be 
able  to  retain  the  sewage  for  a  long  time,  still  the  ground 
gradually  becomes  saturated,  and,  acting  as  a  sponge,  the 
impure  water  is  carried  for  many  yards,  until,  perhaps,  it 
Strikes  a  well  into  which  it  may  drain. 


72  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

"Persons  living  on  high  ground  may  suppose  their  wells 
to  be  free  from  such  impurities,  not  knowing  that  the  barn- 
yard or  cess-pool  may  be  one  of  the  springs  from  which  their 
water  is  obtained. 

"  Wells  constructed  in  the  usual  manner  are  particularly 
apt  to  contain  bad  water — first,  from  drainage,  as  I  have  just 
illustrated;  and  secondly,  from  the  decay  of  animals  or  rep- 
tiles which  have  fallen  in  them.  The  stones  lining  the  wells 
are  so  rudely  put  together  that  ample  room  is  allowed  for 
toads,  snakes,  snails,  etc.,  to  collect,  and  hence  frequently  fall 
into  the  water  and  perish.  It  is  stated  by  well-diggers  that 
generally  they  find  at  the  bottom  of  old  wells  eight  to  six- 
teen inches  of  mud,  containing  the  decaying  debris  of  these 
unfortunate  creatures.  It  is  therefore  of  the  utmost  impor- 
tance that  wells  be  so  constructed  that  the  water  may  be  as 
free  as  possible  from  all  drainage  and  contamination  caused 
by  the  decay  of  small  animals. 

"  It  is  almost  impossible  to  construct  a  well  from  which 
water  known  to  be  absolutely  pure  can  be  obtained.  Hence, 
an  analysis  of  well-water  is  of  much  importance  as  the  only 
method  of  establishing  the  purity  of  the  water. 

"If  a  water  contain  over  forty  grains  of  solid  matter  to 
the  gallon,  it  is  generally  injurious  to  health.  Such  an 
amount  is  always  suspicious,  and  demands  investigation  to 
ascertain  if  the  matter  is  organic  or  inorganic." 

Returning  to  table  of  foods,  pages  63-65,  we  find  them 
divided  into  ash,  carbohydrates,  fat,  and  albuminoids,  or 
(1)  Albuminoid,  or  nitrogenous;  (2)  Non-nitrogenous,  or 
fats,  etc.,  the  function  of  the  first  being  to  form  and  repair 
muscles,  while  the  non-nitrogenous  furnish  the  body's  fuel. 
These  fats  and  carbo-hydrates  (sugar  and  starch)  are  hardly 
less  important,  for  although  they  do  not  form  muscle  they 
are  necessary  for  the  production  of  heat  and  to  fatten  the 
body.  They  correspond  in  value  nearly  to  the  coal  which 
the  fireman  shovels  into  the  furnace  of  an  engine,  and  with- 
out which  it  is  unable  to  do  its  work.  Finally,  in  the  column 
headed  "  Ash,"  we  find  (3)  salts,  or  the  inorganic  parts,  except 


DlNING-RoOM   AND    SCULLIONS.  73 

water,  of  our  usual  foods.  These  salts  are  mainly  the 
phosphate  of  lime  and  the  sulphates,  chlorides  and  phos- 
phates *of  potassium  and  sodium,  together,  with  smaller 
quantities  of  the  salts  of  magnesium,  iron,  and  manganese. 
Such  salts  are  essential  to  the  proper  formation  of  bone,  and 
if  kept  from  the  growing  child  it  becomes  rickety  and 
deformed.  All  of  them,  except  common  salt — chloride  of 
sodium — exist  in  sufficient  quantities  for  health  in  our  ordi- 
nary foods.  There  seems  to  be  a  natural  and  instinctive 
longing  for  salt  by  the  herbivora  and  man,  for  wild  animals 
will  travel  long  distances  to  enjoy  a  salt  lick,  and  among 
savage  nations  salt  often  brings  the  highest  price  of  all  com- 
modities. Physiologists  tell  us  that  salt  is  necessary  for  cell 
activity,  so  that  this  instinctive  longing  for  salty  food  is 
natural,  but  this  is  not  true  of  pepper,  mustard,  and  other 
condiments.  These  are  acquired  tastes,  and  only  required  by 
those  whose  jaded  appetites  require  a  spur. 

Both  foods  and  ffhe-  human  body  may  in  their  chemistry 
be  compared  to  an  egg.  The  comparison  is  good  in  that 
each  may  be  divided  into  groups  represented  by  the  shell, 
white,  and  yelk  of  the  egg.  *  The  first  of  these  are  the  inor- 
ganic constituents  of  the  body,  a  list  of  which  is  given 
below.  -a 

Group  1,  or  the  shell  group,  includes  in  the  human  body: 

1.  Water. — Placed  first,  because  about  ninety  pounds  in  an 
average  adult  body. 

2.  Gases. — Oxygen,  hydrogen,  nitrogen,  carbon  dioxide, 
marsh  gas,  sulphuretted  hydrogen. 

3.  /Salts. — Sodium  chloride,  potassium  chloride,  ammoni- 
um chloride,  calcium  fluoride,  sodium  carbonate,  potassium  car- 
bonate, ammonium  carbonate,  calcium  carbonate,  magnesium 
carbonate,  sodium  phosphate,  potassium  phosphate,  calcium 
phosphate,  magnesium  phosphate,  ammonio-magnesium  phos- 
phate, ammonio-sodium  phosphate,  nitrate  of  ammonia,  am- 
monium sulphate,  alkaline  sulphates,  calcium  sulphate. 

4.  Free  Acids. — Hydrochloric  acid,  sulphuric  acid. 

5.  Silicon,  iron,  manganese,  copper,  lead. 
4 


J4r  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

The  exact  role  each  of  these  performs  in  the  body  is  not 
yet  definitely  known  ;  in  fact,  it  is  not  yet  even  known  in 
what  combinations  the  members  of  the  fifth  group  are  found 
in  the  body.  But  it  is  known  wherever  cell  formation  takes 
place  in  the  body  there  certain  of  the  inorganic  salts  are 
necessary.  Calcium  phosphate,  for  instance,  is  not  only 
necessary  for  the  development  of  bone,  but  of  all  albuminoid 
tissues.  Sodium  chloride  is  always  found  where  cell  activity 
is  great.  The  exchange  of  inorganic  gases  will  be  alluded 
to  under  the  subject  of  respiration. 

Group  2  contains  those  compounds,  analogous  to  the  white 
of  the  egg  found  in  the  human  body,  and  known  in  general 
as  albuminoids.  They  are  uncrystallizable,  without  definite 
chemical  composition,  and  resemble  in  many  of  their  reac- 
tions the  white  of  an  egg^  whence  their  name.  The  number 
of  these  compounds  is  large.  They  are  fluid,  semi-solid,  and 
solid,  and  include  such  substances  as  seralbumen,  fibrine,  the 
digestive  ferments,  globulin,  chrondrogen,  ostein, keratin,  and 
various  pigments  of  more  interest  to  the  physiological  chemist 
than  to  the  general  student. 

Group  3,  the  yelk  group,  includes  the  sugars  and  the  fats 
and  starchy  compounds  of  the  body  ;  or,  in  other  words, 
this  group  embraces  the  non-nitrogenous  carbon  compounds. 

This  division  of  the  body  is  helpful,  for  the  reason  that  it 
is  about  the  same  division  as  that  previously  adopted  for 
foods;  namely,  nitrogenous,  carbo-hydrates,  and  inorganic, 
each  of  whose  digestion  requires  a  different  process  to  make 
them  part  of  their  most  nearly  resembling  constituents  of 
the  body.  As  the  starchy  foods  (Group  2)  are  those  first 
acted  upon  by  the  digestive  fluids,  it  may  be  well  to  begin 
our  consideration  of  the  assimilation  of  foods  with  those 
which  make  up  no  small  bulk  of  our  every-day  fare.  About 
seventy  per  cent,  of  the  best  bread,  potatoes  (seventy-five 
per  cent.),  oatmeal,  hominy,  and  Indian  corn  in  less  propor- 
tion, are  starchy  matters  which  require  cooking  and  chemical 
change  before  they  can  be  used  in  the  body.  Cooking  bursts 
the  envelopes  in  which  the  starch   granules  are  contained. 


DlNING-RoOM   AND    SCULLIONS.  75 

hydrates  them  if  moisture  is  added,  or  if  dry  heat  alone  is 
employed  changes  white,  insoluble  starch  to  a  soluble  fawn- 
colored  substance  known  as  dextrine.  This  is  the  reason  why 
toasted  bread  or  cracker  is  more  digestible  than  bread. 
Cooking  also  separates  the  fiber  of  food,  and  thus  renders  it 
more  amenable  to  the  action  of  the  digestive  fluids.  Pork  is 
less  digestible  than  beef  and  mutton,  largely  because  the 
fibers  of  the  former  are  more  compact  than  the  latter,  for  if 
thoroughly  cooked  and  properly  masticated  pork  ranks  among 
the  best  of  our  foods. 

Mastication,  or,  in  plain  English,  chewing,  is  the  first  act 
in  the  process  of  digestion.  For  this  purpose  the  mouth  of 
an  adult  is  provided,  or  ought  to  be,  with  thirty-two  teeth, 
and  should  secrete  something  over  a  quart  of  saliva  a 
day.  The  form  of  the  teeth  proves  that  they  are  to  bite, 
to  cut,  and  to  grind;  and  hence  that  man  is  an  omnivorous 
animal.  If  we  judge  from  the  care  displayed  in  their  struct- 
ure and  their  chemistry,  the  teeth  ought  to  be  the  last  part 
of  the  skeleton  to  decay.  It  is  so  after  death,  and  ought  to  be 
before  ;  but  the  fact  is  that  Americans  have  the  worst  teeth 
and  the  best  dentists  of  any  nation  upon  the  face  of  the 
earth.  A  variety  of  dissimilar  causes,  such  as  candy,  hot 
drinks,  ice  water,  patent  flour,  etc.,  have  been  considered  by 
different  writers  as  the  cause,  but  the  probability  is  that, 
while  these  may  be  exciting  causes,  the  real  error  lies  in  our 
ways  of  living.  Poor  teeth  inevitably  accompany  poor 
bones  and  flabby  muscles,  and  if  we  should  return  to  the 
simpler  and  better  ways  of  living  of  our  grandfathers  we 
should  in  all  probability  have  their  good  teeth.  But,  having 
poor  teeth,  all  the  greater  need  of  preserving  them;  and  this 
care  should  begin  in  childhood.  A  tooth-brush  and  tooth- 
pick should  be  considered  as  indispensable  to  a  child  as  a 
handkerchief,  and  it  should  be  taught  to  use  them  as  dili- 
gently. The  first  or  milk  teeth  should  not  be  prematurely 
removed,  but  allowed  to  remain  as  long  as  possible,  filling 
with  cheap  fillings  if  necessary  to  preserve  the  contour  of  the 
jaw.     It   should    also   be    remembered    that    the   six   year 


76  Physiology  and  Hygiene.  ...  . 

molars  are  never  replaced.  They  follow  so  closely  the  tempo- 
rary teeth  that  they  are  often  confounded  with  them  'and 
allowed  to  decay  under  the  mistaken  idea  that  they  will  be 
replaced  by  permanent  teeth  later.  Permanent  teeth  in  this 
country  ought  to  be  inspected  by  a  competent  dentist  every 
six  months  at  least,  in  order  that  the  beginnings  of  decay 
may  be  arrested.  Waiting  to  attend  to  a  carious  tooth  until 
forced  to  by  toothache  is  very  like  waiting  until  a  house  is 
afire  before  putting  insurance  upon  it. 

To  understand  why  a  tooth  aches  so  violently  when  once 
it  begins  requires  some  knowledge  of  the  structure  of  teeth. 
Pain  usually  implies  pressure  upon  or  poisoning  of  nerve 
structure.  In  the  case  of  the  toothache  it  is  clearly  the 
former,  as  a  tooth  is  composed,  from  the  outside,  first  of 
enamel,  second  of  dentine  and  cementum,  and  in  its  center  a 
pulp  cavity  designed  to  hold  the  nerve  of  the  tooth.  So  long 
as  the  tooth  remains  sound  the  nerve  rests  comfortably  there, 
but  let  the  enamel  once  crack  and  allow  food  to  find  lodg- 
ment and  breed  bacteria  (see  Chapter  VIII)  the  dentine  soon 
breaks  down  and  allows  the  nerve  to  be  exposed  to  the  air, 
or  otherwise  inflamed.  The  nerve  then  becomes  larger  and 
presses  against  the  bony  walls  of  its  cavity  until  the  pain 
becomes  almost  unbearable.  But  suffering  does  not  remove 
the  pain  ;  we  are  obliged  to  seek  the  dentist  to  extract  the 
tooth  which  he  ought  to  have  been  called  upon  previously  to 
save. 

The  enamel  which  covers  the  teeth  is  the  hardest  sub- 
stance found  in  the  body,  and  so  long  as  it  remains  unbroken 
it  is  well-nigh  indestructible.  The  microscope  shows  it  to 
be  constructed  of  a  multitude  of  hexagonal  prisms,  so  hard 
and  packed  so  tightly  together  that,  like  flint,  they  will  strike 
fire.  The  bulk  of  a  tooth  is  made  up  of  wavy  tubes  of  den- 
tine with  cementum  gluing  it  to  the  jaw,  and  inside  of  the 
tooth  the  pulp  cavity  already  described.  Killing  the  nerve 
of  a  tooth  means  introducing  into  this  cavity  some  substance, 
such  as  arsenic,  which  will  destroy  the  vitality  of  the  nerve. 
The  objection  to  this  is  that  the  tooth  then  becomes  a  foreign 


DlNING-RoOM   AND    SCULLIONS.  77 

body  in  the  gum,  where  it  is  very  liable  to  set  up  in- 
flammation. In  fact,  such  dead  teeth  are  prone  to  make 
more  trouble  than  false  teeth,  whichj  by  the  way,  are  no 
modern  invention,  for  the  Chinese,  Ion  a;  before  we  ever 
dreamed  of  such  things,  whittled  out  of  hard  wood  artificial 
teeth  to  order,  as  they  do  till  to-da»y ;  their  tooth  car- 
penters, according  to  Dr.  Clancy,  sitting  on  the  street 
corners  to  turn  you  out  a  set  while  you  wait.  False  teeth 
were  known  to  the  Romans,  for  in  one  of  Horace's  odes  he 
speaks  of  two  belligerent  hags  falling  into  a  quarrel,  and  in 
the  excitement  of  the  occasion  the  false  teeth  of  one  of  them 
falls  out.  Gold  fillings  are  as  old  as  the  Egyptians,  for  some 
of  their  mummies  have  their  teeth  filled  with  gold,  and  well 
filled,  too,  we  are  told. 

False  teeth  are  better  than  no  teeth,  but  it  is  far  better  to 
preserve  even  a  poor  set  than  to  be  compelled  to  rely  on 
porcelain  substitutes,  for  at  their  best  they  can  never  as 
perfectly  masticate  food  as  it  should  be  done.  Rinsing  the 
mouth  immediately  after  a  meal  with  a  dilute  solution  of 
common  baking  soda  (saleratus),  a  pinch  in  half  a  glass  of 
water,  and  the  use  of  a  good  tooth-brush  and  tooth-picks 
freely  in  private,  would  save  most  of  us  many  an  hour's  pain 
at  the  dentist's.  In  addition  at  bed-time  a  piece  of  waxed 
silk  ought  to  be  drawn  between  the  teeth,  wherever  food 
might  gather  and  decay.  Nature's  teeth  ought  to  serve  us  as 
long  as  we  have  any  occasion  for  them.  But  all  this  requires 
more  time  than  busy  Americans  think  they  can  give  to  the 
care  of  so  trivial  a  matter  as  their  teeth,  until  at  last  an  ex- 
posed nerve  or  an  inflamed  pulp  cavity  drives  them  to  the 
nearest  dentist,  quoting  energetically  Burns's  "Ode  to  the 
Toothache  "  as  they  go. 

A  tooth  is  too  valuable  a  servant  to  be  lightly  lost,  so  that 
if  a  sound  one  is  by  some  mischance  pushed  from  its  socket 
it  ought  to  be  immediately  replaced,  and  if  possible  held 
there,  for  the  gums  sometimes  contract  with  sufficient  firm- 
ness to  hold  the  tooth  again  in  place  and  enable  it  to  do 
very  fair  work.     In  fact,  (he  original  method  for  the  use  of 


78  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

artificial  teeth  was  to  extract  a  stump  and  immediately  insert 
a  false  tooth  in  its  stead,  which  often  was  held  with  sufficient 
firmness  to  enable  it  to  bite  or  grind  the  food  according  as 
it  was  an  incisor  or  molar. 

The  molars,  like  the  mills  of  the  gods,  are  intended  to 
grind  slowly  and  exceeding  fine,  for  the  efficiency  of  after 
digestion  depends  largely  upon  the  smallness  of  the  frag- 
ments of  food  and  their  thorough  mixture  with  the  fluids  of 
the  mouth,  or  insalivation,  as  it  is  sometimes  called.  These 
fluids  come  in  part  from  the  mucous  glands  of  the  mouth  (see 
Chapter  V)  and  in  part  from  the  salivary  glands.  Two  of 
the  latter  are  located  beside  the  ear  (parotid),  two  beneath 
the  jaw  (submaxillary),  and  two  beneath  the  tongue  (sublin- 
gual). Together  they  secrete  about  a  quart  of  liquid,  which 
is  continually  being  poured  into  the  mouth  through  the  ducts 
leading  from  these  glands.  The  ducts  of  the  sublingual  and 
submaxillary  glands,  near  together,  open  into  the  mouth  just 
beneath  the  tongue,  while  the  ducts  of  the  parotids  pour 
their  saliva  into  the  mouth  through  openings  nearly  opposite 
the  second  of  the  molars  of  the  upper  jaw.  With  the  tip  of 
the  tongue  the  saliva  can  be  felt  continually  trickling  out  of 
these  apertures,  and  greatly  increased  in  quantity  while 
dining,  or  when  the  mouth  "  waters  "  for  something  good  to 
eat. 

The  purpose  of  the  saliva  is  twofold  :  first,  to  thoroughly 
lubricate  the  food  so  that  swallowing  may  be  easy,  and 
second  to  bring  about  a  chemical  change  in  the  starch  of  the 
food  which  transforms  it  into  a  variety  of  sugar  (glucose) 
which  can  be  utilized  in  the  body.  If  for  any  reason  this  is 
not  accomplished,  either  because  the  food  is  not  finely 
enough  ground  by  the  teeth,  or  because  the  saliva  is  deficient 
in  quantity  or  quality,  starchy  indigestion  results,  and  hence 
for  many  dyspeptics  bread  is  the  most  difficult  thing  to 
digest.  Young  infants  have  little  or  no  saliva,  and  hence  are 
unable  to  properly  digest  starchy  food.  Although  small  quan- 
tities may  be  disposed  of  lower  down  in  the  alimentary  canal, 
the  bulk  of  these  starchy  foods  remains  undigested  and  causes 


DlNING-RoOM    AND    SCULLIONS.  79 

innumerable  infantile  colics  and  not  a  few  deaths.  The 
majority  of  patent  infant  foods  are  starchy  in  their  nature, 
and  hence  evil  in  their  effects.  Milk,  properly  prepared,  is 
the  best  food  for  babies  for  the  reason  that  it  contains  all 
the  necessary  elements  of  food  mentioned  on  page  73, 
namely,  inorganic  salts,  albuminoids  (casein  or  curd)  and 
hydrocarbons  in  the  cream  and  sugar  of  the  milk. 

Let  us  then  briefly  consider  the  digestion  in  detail  of  a 
mouthful  of  milk,  since  it  contains  all  the  ingredients  neces- 
sary for  the  nourishment  of  the  body  and  all  the  essential 
varieties  of  food  that  can  be  found  on  any  table.  Undi- 
gested milk  is  poison,  as  many  a  poor  baby  has  found  to  its 
cost,  but  properly  digested  it  forms  bone,  muscle,  sinew,  by 
the  aid  of  the  germinal  matter  spoken  of  in  Chapter  I.  Each 
kind  of  germinal  matter  needs  its  appropriate  nourishment,  all 
of  which  can  be  gathered  from  the  curd,  cream,  and  salts  of 
the  milk. 

First,  as  to  the  curd,  which  corresponds  to  the  nitrogenous 
foods  of  the  adult.  With  the  latter  the  nitrogenous  food 
requires  to  be  reduced  to  small  fragments  by  the  teeth  before 
it  descends  the  esophagus,  or  the  back  stairs  to  the  kitchen. 
Liquids  escape  this  process,  and  immediately  find  their  way 
over  the  epiglottis  (see  Chapter  VI)  down  into  the  stomach, 
whose  acid  juices  immediately  clot  it.  If  these  clots  are  too 
large,  or  firm,  they  cause  distress,  but  if  the  milk  is  properly 
acted  upon  it  forms  soft,  fine  curds,  which  are  more  digestible 
than  the  original  milk,  for  they  contain  their  nitrogenous  mat- 
ter in  a  form  to  be  readily  acted  upon  by  the  gastric  j  uice.  Gas- 
tric juice  is  an  acid  fluid  constantly  secreted  by  glands  located 
in  the  membrane  lining  the  inside  of  the  stomach.  These 
are  known  as  the  peptic  glands,  and  their  duty  is  to  prepare 
the  gastric  juice,  or  fluid,  which  is  a  colorless,  watery,  acid 
liquid  containing  from  three  to  four  parts  in  a  thousand  of  pep- 
sin. Pepsin  is  an  animal  ferment,  and  has  the  remarkable  prop- 
erty of  transforming  albuminoids  into  peptones.  A  solution  of 
peptone  looks  very  like  a  solution  of  albumen,  from  which  it 
differs  mainly   in   the  fact  that  albumen  is  unable  to  pass 


80 


Physiology  and  Hygiene. 


through  an  animal  membrane,  while  peptone  can.     On  this 
apparently  trivial   fact  the  use  of  animal  food  depends.     If 

it  were  otherwise  all  animal  and 
much  vegetable  food  would  have  to 
be  given  up,  for  unless  it  can  be 
transformed  into  something  which 
will  nourish  the  body  by  passing 
into  the  circulation  such  food 
would  be  positively  injurious.  Un- 
changed albuminoids  would  lie  like 
lead  in  the  stomach,  for  albuminoid 
bodies  cannot  pass  through  the  coats 
of  the  stomach  into  the  blood,  where 
it  can  nourish  and  supply  the 
body's  waste.  Peptone  is  an  hydra- 
tion of  the  albumen,  prepared, 
by  the  pepsin  of  the  stomach.*' 
Thus  peptonized,  as  we  say,  assimi- 
lation can  now  go  on  by  absorption 
of  the  albuminoids  which  have  been 
peptonized,  which  pass  as  peptones 
directly  into  the  lacteals  located  in 
the  walls  of  the  stomach.  The  ex- 
act work  done  by  the  stomach  was 
for  a  long  time  a  mystery  to  the 
chemist;  some  esteeming  it,  as  Hun- 
ter says,  a  cooking  pot,  others  a 
mill,  a  churn,  etc.,  until  very  recently  the  exact  chemical 
change  occurring  there  is  found  to  be  simply  the  addition 
of  water  to  the  albuminoids  of  the  food — not  a  mixture 
with  water,  for  that  takes  place  in  the  mouth ;  but  a 
chemical  union,  or  hydration,  forming  the  peptones  already 
described. 

But  all  of  our  food  is  not  albuminoid,  and  hence  not 
digested  in  the  stomach,  whose  fluids  are  only  able  to  pep- 
tonize the  nitrogenous  foods.  t  The  starches  have  partly 
been  acted  upon  by  the  saliva  in  the  mouth,  and  this  trans- 


Peptic  Glands. 

A,  Under  a  low  power ;  d,  duct ;  n, 

neck. — Klein. 


DlNING-RoOM    AND    SCULLIONS.  81 

formation  into  glucose  is  further  continued  in  the  acid  fluids 
of  the  stomach,  while  the  remainder  of  the  food  is  in  from  two 
to  six  hours  converted  into  a  thick  fluid,  consisting  of  solid,  un- 
digested particles,  suspended  in  a  yellowish,  disagreeably  smell- 
ing liquid.  This  mixture  is  known  as  chyme,  and  is  food  now 
prepared  for  further  digestion  in  the  intestinal  canal,  into  which 
it  passes  from  the  stomach  by  means  of  the  pylorus,  a  purse- 
like mouth  which  opens  when  the  chyme  is  ready  for  intestinal 
digestion.  When  in  the  intestines  it  becomes  mixed  with  bile, 
pancreatic  fluid,  and  the  juices  from  the  various  intestinal 
glands.  Each  of  these  has  some  part  to  perform  in  perfect 
digestion.  The  bile,  for  instance,  prevents  decomposition,  and 
emulsifies  the  fats,  the  pancreatic  fluid  completes  the  digestion 
of  the  fats,  and  the  intestinal  fluids  complete  the  digestion  of  the 
albuminoids  and  sugars.  The  use  of  each  of  the  digestive  fer- 
ments is  Avell  shown  in  the  following  table  taken  from  Roberts: 

TABLE  OF  DIGESTIVE  FERMENTS. 

NAME.  FUNCTION. 

1.  Ptyalin,  or  salivary  diastase,  con-     1.  Changes  starch  into  dextrine  and 

tained  in  the  saliva.  glucose. 

2.  Pepsin  contained  in  gastric  juice.      2.  In  acid  fluids  changes  albuminoids 

into  peptones. 

3.  Curdling   ferment    contained    in     3.  Coagulates  casein. 

gastric  juice. 

4.  Trypsin  contained  in  pancreatic     4.  In  alkaline  solutions  transforms 

juice.  proteids  to  peptones. 

5.  Curdling  ferment  found  in  pancre-      5.  Coagulates  milk  casein. 

atic  juice. 

G.  Pancreatic  diastase  found  in  pan-  6.  Changes  starch  into  dextrine  and 
creatic  juice.  glucose. 

7.  Emulsive  ferment  found  in  pancre-  7.  Emulsifies  fats. 

atic  juice. 

8.  Bile  poured  into  duodenum.  8.  Assists  in  emulsifying  fats. 

9.  Invertin  found  in  intestinal  juice.       9.  Converts  cane  sugar  into  inverted 

sugar. 
10.   Curdling  ferment  found  in  intes-    10.  Coagulates  casein. 
tinal  juice. 

Digestion,  then,  is  not  as  simple  a  thing  as  the  proprietors 

of  the  patent  anti-dyspeptics  would  have  you  believe.     It  is 

an  exceedingly  complex  process,  and  any  interference  at  any 

stage  of  the  process  produces  dyspepsia,  which  is  the  Greek 

4* 


82  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

for  indigestion.  Eupepsia  is  the  word  for  perfect  digestion, 
and  any  variation  from  this  constitutes  dyspepsia,  which  may 
be  of  all  grades  from  slight  discomfort  after  eating  to  a 
profound  wretchedness  which  makes  life  a  burden.  It  may 
be  a  dyspepsia  arising  from  failure  to  properly  masticate 
the  food  from  lack  of  teeth,  or  haste,  and  can  be  remedied 
only  by  false  teeth,  or  greater  care  in  eating;  and  unless 
this  is  done  no  amount  of  artificial  pepsin  will  cure  the 
difficulty. 

Pepsin,  by  the  way,  is  no  new  remedy,  for  the  Chinese 
from  time  immemorial  have  used  a  decoction  of  chicken 
gizzards  in  just  those  cases  where  the  modern  physician 
employs  ingluvin  manufactured  from  the  same  source, 
but  neither  pepsin,  ingluvin,  lactopeptin,  dyspepsin,  nor  any 
of  the  vaunted  panaceas  for  dyspepsia  will  accomplish  their 
work  without  the  intelligent  assistance  of  both  patient  and 
physician.  Chronic  dyspepsia  and  sick  headaches,  which  are 
probably  another  manifestation  of  the  same  vice,  are  among 
the  most  intractable  of  human  ailments.  No  one  acquires 
either  without  prolonged  errors  in  eating.  Gluttony  causes 
as  much,  if  a  different  kind,  of  distress  as  drunkenness, 
and  it  is  a  form  of  intemperance  to  which  intelligent  people 
are  vastly  more  prone  than  indulgence  in  liquor.  Others 
than  Methodist  theological  students  might  read  to  profit 
John  Wesley's  rules  on  this  subject,  beginning  with,  "  Are 
you  temperate  in  all  things  ?  For  instance,  in  food,  do 
you  use  only  that  kind  and  that  degree  which  is  best  both 
for  body  and  soul  ?  Do  you  see  the  necessity  of  this  ?  Do 
you  eat  no  more  at  each  meal  than  is  necessary  ?  Are 
you  not  heavy  or  drowsy  after  dinner?"  It  is  not  the 
amount  of  food  eaten,  but  that  assimilated,  which  feeds  the 
body,  and  any  excess  over  this  is  hurtful  and  harmful.  We 
possess  about  four  millions  of  cooks,  whose  duty  is  to  prepare 
food  for  us,  and  so  excellently  will  they  do  this  if  we  furnish 
them  the  proper  materials  that  we  ought  to  know  nothing 
more  of  their  exploits  than  we  do  of  the  same  class  of 
workers  in  a  large  hotel.     Dyspepsia  means  a  strike  in  the 


DlXING-RoOM    AND   SCULLIONS.  83 

kitchen,  and  may  be  of  any  magnitude,  from  slight  incon- 
venience to  absolute  starvation.  Usually  the  first  evidence 
of  trouble  in  the  human  kitchen  is  loss  of  appetite,  or  anorexia, 
as  the  doctors  call  it. 

If  now  we  were  only  wise  enough  to  understand  that  alack 
of  appetite  means  that  our  cooks  have  been  overtaxed  and 
are  meditating  further  disturbance,  happy  would  it  be  for 
us  and  them,  but,  instead,  we  send  down  additional  dainties 
for  them  to  dispose  of.  The  next  thing,  if  we  persist  in 
this  course,  is  a  serious  emeute  below  stairs,  for  which  we  are 
solely  to  blame;  for  if  we  had  refrained  from  eating  for  a 
meal  or  two,  as  our  loss  of  appetite  counseled  us  to  do,  appetite 
would  have  returned  at  the  proper  time,  and  we  should  have 
been  all  the  better  for  our  temporary  fast.  Long  ago  old 
Dr.  Dewees  wrote:  "I  am  convinced  that  the  value  of  absti- 
nence in  the  treatment  of  acute  disease  is  not  fully  appre- 
ciated," and  every  physician  since  has  had  no  lack  of  cases 
corroborating  this.  Food  in  this  country  is  so  plentiful  and 
excellent  that  we  eat  too  much,  and  where  one  poor  unfort- 
unate dies  of  starvation  hundreds  die  of  overeating. 

According  to  Dr.  Hunt,  a  person  engaged  in  hard  work 
requires  not  more  than  four  and  a  half  ounces  of  meat,  or  its 
equivalent,  and  about  twenty-six  ounces  or  two  pounds  of 
well-buttered  bread,  or  its  equivalent,  to  efficiently  perform 
his  daily  work  ;  and  this  is  rather  below  than  above  the 
amount  of  meat,  vegetables,  etc.,  eaten  in  this  country 
by  those  engaged  in  sedentary  pursuits.  To  enable  the 
digestive  organs  to  perform  this  surplus  work,  condiments, 
sauces,  and  artificial  aids  are  generally  employed,  to  the 
permanent  injury  of  the  individual,  ofie"n  in  the  shape  of 
permanently  disabled  kidneys.     (See  Sewerage.) 

Finally,  there  is  what  is  known  as  nervous  dyspepsia,  a 
disease  of  increasing  frequency  in  our  large  cities.  In  these 
cases  the  trouble  seems  to  be  not  with  the  food,  but  with 
the  nerves  which  regulate  the  supply  of  gastric  juice. 
Excitement  of  any  kind  will  bring  a  transient  nervous  anorexia, 
and   if  the  excitement  be  long-continued  this  loss  of  appe- 


84  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

tite  may  become  permanent.  It  is  one  form  of  neurasthenia, 
elsewhere  spoken  of  (see  Chapter  VII),  and  needs  similar  treat- 
ment. Drugs,  tonics,  and  stimulants,  too  often  resorted  to 
with  temporary  relief  in  these  cases,  are  all  useless  until 
some  method  is  found  to  restore  the  exhausted  nervous 
system.  Stimulants  here  are  particularly  hurtful,  for  they 
inevitably  inflict  permanent  injury  on  the  already  weakened 
digestive  organs.  A  glass  of  wine  or  a  sip  of  something 
stronger  in  such  cases  will  often  stir  up  a  lagging  appetite, 
and  enable  one  of  these  exhausted  stomachs  to  dispose  of  a 
fair  meal  which  otherwise  would  have  gone  begging.  But 
such  temporary  relief  is  purchased  at  the  price  of  further 
exhaustion  on  the  withdrawal  of  the  stimulant,  which  unfort- 
unately often  is  never  withdrawn  until  the  dyspeptic  finds 
himself  in  worse  bondage  to  alcohol. 

The  exact  relation  of  alcohol  to  food  is  a  question  that  has 
long  and  vehemently  been  argued  over,  and  is  not  yet  fully 
settled.  It  can,  however,  be  fairly  said  that  its  estimation 
as  a  food  has  gradually  diminished  until  now  even  its  advo- 
cates scarcely  claim  more  than  that  alcoholic  drinks  take  the 
place  of  food,  and  are  of  value  to  those  wasting  from  disease 
or  enduring  great  hardships.  The  last  claim  has  never  been 
substantiated,  but,  on  the  contrary,  many  facts  have  been 
educed  which  prove  the  exact  reverse.  The  London  Times, 
which  can  hardly  be  supposed  to  be  prejudiced  in  favor  of 
temperance,  reports  that  the  total  abstainers  on  a  recent 
Arctic  expedition  bore  the  terrible  severities  of  their  long 
sledge  journeys  better  than  those  to  whom  grog  was  daily 
served.  The  experience  of  one  of  these  abstainers  is  so  much 
to  the  point  that  it  is  given  in  detail. 

"  Gore,  it  seems,  had  been  an  abstainer  until  he  was  twenty- 
one  years  old,  but  in  an  unguarded  moment  while  on  the 
sledge  journeys  he  succumbed  to  the  temptation  and  persua- 
sion of  his  companions  and  took  to  grog.  Previous  to  break- 
ing his  pledge  Gore  states  that  he  could  eat  as  well  as  any 
one.  In  fact,  after  devouring  his  portion,  he  was  in  the 
habit  of  looking  about  for  more;  but  no  sooner  had  he  taken 


DINING-ROOM    AND    SCULLIONS.  85 

to  grog-drinking  than  he  found  his  appetite  to  fail,  and  he 
was  deprived  of  the  refreshing  sleep  which  he  had  formerly- 
enjoyed.  He  was  the  only  Good  Templar  who  joined  the 
expedition  that  was  attacked  with  scurvy,  and  for  this  he 
was  no  doubt  indebted  to  his  unfaithfulness.  He  gave  stim- 
ulants, he  remarks,  a  fair  trial,  and  he  is  now  convinced  that 
it  was  the  grog  which  did  the  mischief.  It  may  be  noticed 
that  the  -testimony  of  the  whole  ship's  company — doctors 
and  others  included — is  unanimous  and  conclusive  against 
the  serving  out  of  stimulants  during  the  day.  They  emphat- 
ically state  that  no  work  can  be  done  upon  the  grog." 

Furthermore,  the  medical  profession  generally  believe  that 
alcohol  is  a  poison,  and  as  such  produces  its  disturbance  in 
the  body;  and  consequently  that  no  healthy,  well-fed  man 
requires  or  is  better  off  for  its  use.  So  far  all  candid 
physicians  and  temperance  workers  can  agree,  but  there  is  as 
yet  an  honest  difference  of  opinion  as  to  whether  alcohol,  like 
other  poisonous  drugs,  has  its  rightful  place  among  the  phy- 
sician's weapons  for  fighting  disease.  The  experiment  is 
being  fairly  tried  in  the  temperance  hospitals,  in  which  dis- 
eases are  being  treated  without  the  use  of  alcohol  in  any 
form  whatever.  What  the  final  verdict  will  be  it  is  too  early 
yet  to  predict;  but  whatever  that  verdict  may  be,  it  is  sure 
to  confirm  the  statement  that  alcohol  is  at  best  a  sharp  and 
dangerous  tool  and  never  to  be  used  indiscriminately,  espe- 
cially by  those  of  a  fine  nervous  organization.  The  more 
acute  the  nervous  system,  the  greater  the  danger  in  using 
this  seductive  anaesthetic.  Alcohol  has  some  brief  stimulant 
effect,  but  it  is,  in  the  main,  an  anaesthetic — that  is,  a  drug 
which  lessens  sensibility. 

One  of  the  first  effects  of  liquor  is  to  make  a  man  tingle 
pleasantly  all  over,  or  in  other  words  it  disturbs  the' innerva- 
tion of  the  skin,  and  soon  disturbs  its  sensibility,  so  that  the 
drunken  brute  hardly  knows  when  he  is  kicked  and  beaten. 
The  evil  effects  of  alcohol  upon  the  muscles  and  germinal 
matter  have  elsewhere  been  spoken  of,  but  the  great  danger 
of  alcoholic  liquors  is  the  effect  which  they  have  upon  the 


86  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

nervous  system  and  the  inevitable  loss  of  self-control  which 
their  free  use  entails.  No  well  man  ever  needs  alcohol  in 
any  form,  and  no  sick  one  ought  ever  to  have  it  except  upon 
a  doctor's  prescription,  and  then  only  during  his  advice,  and 
it  is  more  than  probable  that  both  physician  and  patient 
would  fare  better  without  its  use,  except  in  very  rare 
emergencies. 

Bread  and  butter  are  far  better  food  than  any  malt  liquor, 
for  the  latter  contains  only  part  of  the  elements  necessary  to 
feed  a  man,  all  of  which  may  be  found  in  bread  and  butter. 
Add  to  this  one  eighth  meat  or  cheese,  and  you  have  about 
the  right  proportions  of  the  three  classes  of  food,  already 
described,  to  form  a  nutritious  diet. 

By  nutritious  food  we  mean  it  should  contain  those  ele- 
ments that  are  necessary  to  make  up  a  healthy  body,  and  a 
deficiency  in  any  one  of  these  will  bring  a  correspondingly 
deficient  body.  Chemists  tell  us  that  there  are  fifteen  of  the 
elements  found  in  the  body,  namely,  oxygen,  hydrogen,  carbon, 
nitrogen,  phosphorus,  sulphur,  fluorine,  calcium,  iron,  man- 
ganese, silicon,  etc.,  already  given  on  page  73.  Man  cannot 
live  on  these  crude  elements  any  more  than  he  could  build 
a  house  of  sand,  clay,  and  water.  He  would  starve  to  death 
if  he  were  fed  only  on  just  so  much  of  these  crude  materials 
as  he  has  been  in  the  habit  of  taking  combined  in  his  daily 
food  ;  for  none  of  the  elements  except  oxygen  and  nitro- 
gen are  taken  into  the  body  in  their  free  or  uncombined 
condition.  These  gases  (oxygen  and  nitrogen),  as  we  know, 
supply  the  body  with  the  air  necessary  for  its  ventilation  and 
the  destruction  of  its  waste  product;  but  they  are  not  food  in 
the  sense  in  which  we  ordinarily  employ  the  term,  for  food 
must  be  something  more  than  a  mere  chemical  compound. 
It  must*be  toothsome  as  well  as  nutritious,  and  it  must  please 
the  palate  and  the  stomach,  or  the  most  scientifically  con- 
structed food  in  the  world  will  not  long  nourish  or  satisfy  a 
human  being.  And  herein  is  the  great  fault  of  the  most 
of  patent  infant  foods  ;  they  are  constructed  on  thoroughly 
scientific,  but  generally  non-appetizing,   principles.      They 


DlNING-RoOM   AND    SCULLIONS.  87 

contain  exactly  the  amount  of  carbon,  nitrogen,  silicon,  and 
lime  that  the  scientific  infant  ought  to  take  for  its  proper 
nourishment  and  growth,  but,  unfortunately,  the  average 
human  baby  does  not  like  the  taste  of  them,  and  will  have 
none  of  them,  and  the  scientific  physician,  sooner  or  later, 
has  to  betake  himself  to  old-fashioned  milk  or  make  out  a 
death  certificate.  Nevertheless,  it  is  most  emphatically  true 
that  food,  to  be  nutritious  and  sufficient,  must  contain  all 
these  elements  in  their  proper  proportion,  or  there  will  be  a 
breaking  down  somewhere  in  the  "  body  politic." 

Less  than  two  hundred  years  ago  scurvy  was  one  of  the 
most  dreaded  diseases  on  all  the  ships  in  the  then  known 
world.  Sailors,  after  being  some  time  on  shipboard,  broke 
out  with  the  most  disgusting  sores,  their  hair  and  teeth  fell 
out,  and  their  swollen  and  festering  gums  hardly  enabled 
them  to  crunch  the  salt  meat  and  stale  biscuit  that  were 
their  daily  rations.  Scurvy  is  simply  the  penalty  of  trying 
to  live  without  fresh  meat  and  vegetables  ;  and  so  generally 
is  this  now  known  that  it  has  become  an  almost  unknown 
disease,  for,  by  law,  ship-owners  are  obliged  to  furnish  their 
crew  with  the  proper  preventives. 

Furthermore,  food  to  be  nutritious  must  not  contain  any 
dangerous  ingredients  added  to  it  either  by  carelessness  or 
fraud,  the  latter  of  which  is  one  of  the  crying  sins  of  these 
latter  days.  Hardly  any  thing  that  we  eat,  drink,  or  put  on 
but  is  adulterated.  In  fact,  if  we  believe  half  what  the 
newspapers  tell  us,  we  take  our  lives  in  our  hands  every 
time  that  we  sit  at  our  dinner  or  breakfast  table. 

All  flour,  say  the  public  analysts,  is  adulterated  with 
alum  and  terra  alba  until  eating  it  is  scarcely  more  health- 
ful than  trying  to  digest  powdered  mill-stones,  while  the 
yeast  or  baking-powder  with  which  it  is  raised  is  said  to  be 
a  perfect  chemist's  shop  of  compounds  improper  to  introduce 
into  a  human  body.  And  then,  as  to  butter,  it  is  a  fact  that 
they  turn  out  car-load  after  car-load  of  butter  that  is  made 
in  the  packing-house,  and  not  at  the  dairy.  Pretty  good  butter 
it  is  too  ;  far  better  than  much  of  the  cheap  stuff  that  is 


88  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

honestly  and  dirtily  made  from  cows'  milk  ;  for  properly 
prepared  oleomargarine  is  a  nutritious  and  healthful  article 
of  diet,  and  one  that  has  done  much  to  cheapen  the  poor 
man's  breakfast  table.  And  yet  most  of  us  honestly  confess 
that  we  would  rather  know  what  we  are  eating  ;  and  it  takes 
some  little  moral  fortitude  to  use  a  butter  that  you  know  is 
made  of  beef  suet.  But  it  is  not  a  dangerous  substance,  and 
it  is  so  well  made  that  the  best  expert  on  the  subject  of  butter 
in  the  city  of  Chicago  was  deluded  into  buying  a  pail  of 
pure  oleomargarine  for  his  family  use,  and  eating  it  too.  On 
the  whole,  we  may  count  ourselves  fortunate  if  we  only  find 
oleomargarine  in  the  way  of  adulteration  in  our  butter  ;  for 
in  these  latter  days  they  have  found  ways  of  bleaching  and 
disinfecting  even  the  most  rancid  and  unpalatable  butter  so 
that  it  may  be  put  upon  the  market  with  any  color,  odor,  or 
taste  desired ;  but  all  such  processes  are  dangerous  and 
hurtful  to  the  consumer. 

Meat,  fortunately,  cannot  be  adulterated,  but  they  do  say 
that  one  of  the  largest  packing  firms  in  a  modern  Sodom  util- 
izes for  its  canned  meats  such  scraps  and  refuse  as  they 
cannot  sell  even  to  a  Chicago  boarding-house.  Meat  may  be 
diseased  by  long  standing,  and  produce  within  itself  alka- 
loids that  are  hardly  less  poisonous  than  strychnia.  This 
is  apt  to  happen  in  corning  beef,  when  it  is  imperfectly 
cured,  so  that  every  once  in  a  while  we  read  of  epidemics  of 
poisoning  that  have  followed  the  use  of  tainted  meats.  Un- 
cooked sausages,  leberwurst,  etc.,  are  especially  prone  to  such 
changes  in  warm  climates  ;  and  in  fact  uncooked  or  partially 
cooked  meat  never  should  be  used,  except  by  the  advice  of 
a.  physician,  for  in  this  way  tape-worms  and  trichina  are 
introduced  into  the  system. 

Our  potatoes,  perhaps,  are  safe,  for  no  man  has  yet  discov- 
ered a  method  of  profitably  making  an  artificial  potato, 
though  there  was  an  enterprising  genius  that  last  winter  put 
upon  the  New  York  market  an  artificial  egg  that  had  not 
the  most  distant  acquaintance  with  a  hen.  Its  shell  was 
made  of  plaster  of  Paris,  the  white  of  blood  albumen,  and 


DlNING-RoOM    AND    SCULLIONS.  89 

the  yelk  of  some  unknown  compound,  and  the  whole  was  so 
cleverly  put  together  that  thousands  of  them  were  sold  when 
eggs  were  highest,  before  the  fraud  was  suspected.  Con- 
densed eggs,  as  they  are  called,  are  largely  adulterated  with 
blood  albumen  and  colored  with  chromate'of  lead,  so  that 
instead  of  being,  like  eggs,  a  proper,  nutritious,  and  convenient 
article  of  food,  they  are  dangerous  and  poisonous.  Several 
cases  of  poisoning  from  lemon  pies  made  with  these  con- 
densed eggs  are  reported,  and  therefore  desiccated  eggs 
should  be  relegated  to  the  oblivion  they  deserve. 

Bishop  Asbury  was  in  the  habit  of  telling  his  young 
preachers,  when  they  grumbled  over  the  uncleanliness  of  the 
tables  they  were  forced  to  put  up  with,  that  "  a  baked  potato 
and  a  hard-boiled  egg  are  always  clean  and  nutritious  articles 
of  diet ; "  but  that  was  before  the  days  of  these  artificial 
eggs  and  Saratoga  chip  potatoes,  which  are  sometimes  pre- 
pared, as  we  are  told,  from  the  refuse  of  the  larger  hotels 
North,  and  shipped  abroad  in  neat  boxes  for  foreign  con- 
sumption only. 

Suppose  we  turn  in  despair  to  our  cup  of  coffee.  We  may 
not  find  it  much  better,  for  the  fact  is  that  latterly  not 
more  than  one  woman  in  a  thousand  knows  how  to  make  a 
good  cup  of  coffee.  When  you  find  the  rare  thousandth 
woman,  she  cannot  do  it  unless  she  is  furnished  coffee  to 
make  it  with,  and  I  presume  that  a  good  three  quarters  of 
all  the  coffee  on  the  market  is  so  largely  adulterated  that  it 
would  take  a  competent  chemist  to  find  the  percentage  of 
coffee  contained  in  it.  It  was  once  thought  that  buying  the 
unbrowned  coffee-berry  you  were  sure  to  get  a  pure  article, 
but  in  these  latter  days  the  sons  of  Belial  have  contrived 
imitations  in  plaster  of  Paris  that  would  deceive  the  very 
elect,  in  color,  form,  and  every  thing  but  taste.  When  it 
comes  to  browning  the  berry,  some  Yankee  has  found  that 
the  cheap  and  nutritious  peanut  can  be  browned  to  exactly 
the  same  tint  as  the  coffee  bean,  which,  when  split,  it 
closely  resembles,  and  can  be  put  upon  the  market  at  a  far 
less    | >rice.     It   is   said,  furthermore,  not    to   have   the  bad 


90 


Physiology  and  Hygiene. 


effect  of  wakefulness  that  belongs  to  the  unadulterated 
coffee  ;  and  the  same  may  be  said  of  chicory  coffee,  rye 
coffee,  potato  paring  coffee,  and  all  the  endless  variety  of 
adulterations  that  the  high  price  of  coffee  has  forced  upon 
the  market ;  and,  worst  of  all,  there  seems  at  present  to  be 
no  satisfactory  method  of  recognizing  these  adulterations 
except  the  microscope  in  the  hands  of  an  expert. 

Sugar  has  fared  almost  as  badly  in  the  contest  between 
honesty  and  illegitimate  profits,  for  sugar  is  sold  in  the 
markets  at  a  less  price  than  it  can  be  honestly  manufactured 
from  sugar-cane.  Whole  cargoes  of  white  earth  are  brought 
from  Chili  for  this  purpose,  and  car-load  after  car-load  of 
corn  is  worked  up  into  glucose  to  adulterate  syrup  and  mo- 
lasses, to  say  nothing  of  the  more  dangerous  use  of  poisonous 
salts  of  tin  that  are  used  in  making  what  is  known  as  new 
process  sugar.  And  so  the  list  might  be  almost  indefinitely 
prolonged ;  and  yet  after  all  most  of  us  are  more  frightened 
than  hurt  by  these  adulterations  of  food.  They  are  a  crying 
evil  which  needs  the  appointment  of  a  State  chemist,  and 
heavy  penalties  for  any  contamination  of  food  either  from 
carelessness  or  fraud.  But  as  yet  the  staple  articles  of  food  in 
this  country  are  good  and  cheap.  The  per  diem  cost  of  honestly 
feeding  an  inmate  of  our  State  institutions  is  from  fifteen 
to  twenty-five  cents.  Atkinson,  in  a  recent  article  on  the 
subject  of  food,  estimates  that  twenty-four  cents  daily  is 
sufficient  to  feed  an  adult  in  this  country,  divided  as  follows : 


Meat,  \  lb 10  cents. 

Eggs 5     " 

Bread,  J  lb 2}  « 

Milk,  \  pint 5     " 

Vegetables 2%  " 


Sugar  and  syrup 2  cents. 

Tea  and  coffee 1    " 

Salt,  spices,  etc 1£  a 

Total 24  cents. 


So  that  for  less  than  a  quarter  of  a  dollar  daily  the  ma- 
chinery may  be  run  and  the  waste  repaired  of  the  houses  in 
which  we  live,  for,  as  says  another,  "  man,  in  a  strictly  ma- 
terialistic point  of  view,  is  an  engine,  fire-box,  boiler,  and  fuel 
complete.  The  carbonaceous  foods  are  the  fuel,  and  muscu- 
lar contraction  and  heat  are  the  power  and  results  produced 


Dining-Room  and  Scullions.  91 

by  its  combustion.  This  combustion  of  food  is  not  accom- 
panied with  flame,  but  its  results  are  none  the  less  real 
in  the  way  of  heat  and  carbon  dioxide  gas  which  is  produced 
whenever  carbon  is  burned,  whether  inside  or  outside  of 
the  body.  Between  1,200  and  1,300  grains  of  this  gas,  ac- 
cording to  Huxley,  are  given  off  daily  from  the  body; 
but  as  we  do  not  eat  charcoal  directly  this  gas  must  be 
formed  from  the  carbon  in  our  food,  in  which  form  we  consume 
nearly  seven  ounces  of  charcoal  daily.  A  white  spongy  loaf 
little  resembles  black,  brittle  charcoal,  but  the  loaf  may  easily 
be  converted  into  the  latter  by  simply  letting  it  bake  at  a 
high  enough  temperature  to  drive  off  all  of  the  water  of  the 
dough  and  leave  its  carbon  only  behind  as  a  crisp,  brittle 
mass,  no  longer  fit  for  eating,  but  excellent  for  burning  and 
keeping  indefinitely  unless  put  in  the  fire.  In  fact,  pure  car- 
bon is,  except  by  heat,  one  of  the  most  unalterable  things  in 
the  world.  That  is  why  the  loaves  of  bread  baked  in  Pom- 
peii more  than  eighteen  hundred  years  ago  may  be  seen 
to-day  in  the  museum  at  Naples,  carbonized  like  charcoal, 
and  hence  almost  indestructible.  They  will  show  you  in 
Zurich  blackened  wheat,  burned,  long  before  the  destruction 
of  Pompeii,  in  one  of  their  Swiss  lake  villages  built  on 
piles  over  the  water.  Possibly  the  whole  village  was  con- 
sumed at  the  same  time;  but,  be  that  as  it  may,  these  black- 
ened bits  of  grain,  mixed  with  similarly  carbonized  domestic 
utensils,  have  been  preserved  under  the  waters  of  the  lake 
hundreds  and  hundreds  of  years  unchanged,  for  carbon  under 
such  circumstances  is  one  of  the  most  unchangeable  of  all 
substances.  And  fortunately  it  is  so,  for  otherwise  in  course 
of  time  the  letters  in  our  books  would  have  all  faded 
away  and  Birmingham  and  its  coal  mines  disappeared  in 
thin  air. 

But  unchanging  as  is  carbon  outside  of  the  body,  except  at  a 
heat  higher  than  the  thermometer  measures  in  the  mouth,  some- 
how these  carbonaceous  foods  are  oxidized  within  us  just 
rapidly  enough  neither  to  burn  us  to  a  fever  nor,  in  health, 
ever  to  leave  us  uncomfortably  cool.     We  have  for  the  house 


92  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

in  which  we  live  a  perfectly  regulated  automatic  furnace 
and  engine  which  runs  our  machinery  by  burning  the  refuse 
of  the  body,  something  as  the  engine  at  a  saw-mill  is  run  by 
burning  the  useless  slabs.  If  now  these  slabs  should  take 
fire  and  spread  to  the  rest  of  the  mill  we  have  a  fair  com- 
parison of  fever,  which  is  an  ungoverned  combustion,  beyond 
the  control  of  the  inhabitant  of  the  house.  Often  he  is  to 
blame  for  the  accumulation  of  refuse  in  the  house,  to  remove 
which  fever  comes,  but  the  conflagration  once  under  way 
he  is  powerless  to  stay  it,  for  the  heat-regulating  center,  ac- 
cording to  H.  C.  Wood,  is  located  in  the  brain,  but  is  entirely 
involuntary  in  its  action.  In  fact,  the  physiologists  are  find- 
ing altogether  too  many  of  these  nerve-centers  for  the  com- 
fort of  the  ordinary  student  of  ph}^siology,  and,  worse  than  all, 
they  are  burdening  them  with  such  names  as  thermogenetic 
and  thermolytic,  meaning  by  the  former  heat-producing  and 
by  the  latter  heat-discharging.  They  have  also  coined  an- 
other word,  thermotaxy,  which  is  used  to  express  the  adjust- 
ment of  heat  within  the  body.  "  The  temperature  of  the 
body,"  says  Dr.  Macalister  in  the  last  Croonian  Lectures,  "  is 
due  to  the  action  of  a  heat-generating  mechanism  in  the  body, 
the  chief  source  of  heat  being  changes  in  the  muscles.  The 
loss  of  heat  is  controlled  by  a  heat-losing  mechanism,  mainly 
associated  with  vaso-motor  and  respiratory  activity.  The 
balance  between  heat-production  and  heat-loss  is  maintained 
by  a  heat-adjusting  apparatus.  The  three  mechanisms  are 
successively  evolved  as  we  ascend  in  the  animal  scale.  Cold- 
blooded animals  have  little  more  than  a  thermolytic  or  heat- 
losing  mechanism.  Infants  have  only  the  thermogenetic  and 
thermolytic,  there  being  hardly  any  adjusting  mechanism,  as  is 
shown  by  the  instability  of  their  temperature.  Fever  is  a 
dissolution  process — the  last  mechanism  evolved,  the  thermo- 
taxic,  gives  way  first,  then  the  thermogenetic,  and  lastly  the 
thermolytic.  Or,  in  plainer  English,  the  heat  engine  loses 
its  governor  and  runs  wild.  Conversely,  when  the  patient 
convalesces  thermolysis  is  first  restored  to  normal,  then  ther- 
mogenesis,  then  thermotaxy."     Warming  the  body  is  a  more 


DlNlNG-RoOM    AND    SCULLIONS. 


93 


complex  process  than  it  was  once  supposed,  for  it  requires  other 
and  more  delicate  adjustments  than  simply  swallowing  so 
much  food  like  shoveling  coal  into  a  furnace.  Fortunately 
these  adjustments  are  beyond  our  powers,  or  we  should  burn 
,-up  from  carelessness  or  freeze  o'  nights.  Heat,  like  life,  is 
above  food,  and  science  reiterates  the  biblical  advice  to  take 
no  "  worry  "  over  what  we  shall  eat  and  what  we  shall  drink, 
for  if  we  follow  the  teachings  of  common  sense  we  will  eat 
sufficient  nutritious  and  properly  cooked  food.  "  O  fool,  do 
not  gormandize,  neither  stint  yourself  to  a  scanty  allowance. 
Nature  will  see  to  it  that  the  body  is  kept  in  repair,  and  that 
fuel  sufficient  to  supply  its  engines  will  be  absorbed,  if  you 
but  follow  her  dictates." 


Sympathetic  Ganglia  and  Large  Vessels  of  the  Chest. 


9-i 


Physiology  and  Hygiene. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  WHEEL  AT  THE  CISTERN. 

In  Chapter  III  the  preparation  of  food  in  the  twenty  odd 
feet  of  kitchen  with  its  four  million  cooks  has  been  described. 
But  the  best  cooked  food  must  be  eaten  promptly  or  it  be- 
comes worse  than  useless;  hence  arrangements  have  been 
made  to  deliver  that  for  the  body,  after  it  has  been  properly 
prepared,  in  the  fraction  of  a  minute.  The  agents  by  which  it 
is  accomplished  are  the  villi  of  the  intestines,  the  lymphatics, 
and  the  heart,  with  its  arteries  and  veins.  The  chyme,  already 
described  (see  page  81),  after  its  preparation  for  food,  is 
taken  by  a  multitude  of  tiny  absorbents  which  line  the  intes- 
tinal   walls.     Though    they 


are  identical  with  the  lym- 
phatics, hereafter  to  be  de- 
scribed, they  are  called  lac- 
teals,  for  the  reason  that 
when  they  are  filled  Avith 
absorbed  chyme,  now  called 
chyle,  they  appear  as  if  filled 
with  milk  (lac,  in  Latin). 
These  lacteals  soon  unite  to 
form  larger  trunks,  which 
increase  in  size  by  aggrega- 
tion until  they  unite  to  form 
a  vessel  about  the  size  of  a 
goose  quill,  known  as  the  tho- 
racic duct,  which  runs  along  the  spinal  column  and  at  last  emp- 
ties its  contents  into  the  venous  circulation,  near  the  junction 
of  the  left  jugular  and  subclavian  veins  (see  page  93),  whence 
the  chyle  and  lymph,  which  have  been  added  to  it,  are  carried 


Absorbents  of  the  Colon. 


The  Wheel  at  the  Cistern.  95 

with  the  blood  the  round  of  its  circulation.  Lymph  is  chem- 
ically the  same  as  blood  serum,  and  circulates  throughout  the 
body  through  what  are  known  as  lymph-vessels,  or  the  lym- 
phatic system  of  vessels.  These  are  exceedingly  delicate  tubes, 
whose  coats  are  so  thin  that  the  fluid  they  contain  can  be 
readily  seen  through  their  walls.  The  lymphatics  are  the 
general  absorbents  of  the  body.  The  lacteals  are  the  lym- 
phatics whose  especial  duty  is  to  take  up  the  digested  food 
from  the  intestine,  for  lacteals  and  lymphatics  are  identical 
in  structure.  All  parts  of  the  body  which  are  supplied  with 
capillary  blood-vessels  are  also  supplied  with  lymphatics, 
which  are  so  numerous  that  could  they  be  injected  with 
quicksilver  the  surface  of  the  body  would  appear  like  a  mir- 
ror. Lymphatics  also  originate  from  the  inner  surfaces  of 
all  of  the  cavities  of  the  body  and  most  of  its  organs,  except 
brain  substance,  the  spinal  cord,  cartilage,  tendons,  nails,  and 
hairs,  which  are  destitute  of  lymphatic  vessels  and  glands. 

The  lymphatic  glands  are  small,  oval  bodies,  varying  in 
size  from  a  small  pea  to  an  almond,  located  along  the  tract 
of  the  lymphatic  vessels.  In  fact,  the  lymphatic  vessels  pass 
directly  through  these  lymphatic  glands,  which  act  appar- 
ently as  filters  for  the  lymph  as  it 
passes  through  them.  As  may  be  seen 
by  the  cut,  they  are  admirably  arranged 
for  this  purpose,  the  multitude  of  their 
divisions  (trabeeulce)  necessitating  a 
slow  flow  and  an  efficient  straining  of 
the  lymph  as  it  passes  through.  The 
lymphatic  glands  are  numerous  in  the 
mesentery,  groin,  axilla,  and  neck, 
section  through  the  Medulla  where  they  are  especially  prone  to  en- 
of  a  Lymphatic  Glan_d^.n      large.     What  are  familiarly  known  as 

"kernels,"  are  these  lymphatic  glands 
engorged  with  foreign  matters.     Tf  there  is  a  sufficient  quan- 
tity of  i  liis  to  se1   ii])  inflammation  in  the  gland,  it  becomes 
enlarged,  red,  and  tender,  and  may  go  on  to  form  an  absc< 
If   the   enlargement   is  less,  the  gland  may  simply  remain 


96  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

swollen,  distinctly  visible,  and  unless  properly  treated  may 
continue  in  this  condition  for  years,  giving  rise  to  what  is 
known  as  scrofula  (literally,  pig-neck).  Physicians  are  not 
yet  agreed  as  to  the  cause  of  scrofula,  but,  what  is  more  im- 
portant, generally  agree  that  scrofula  can  be  cured,  provided 
it  be  taken  in  hand  sufficiently  early.  Enlarged  glands  about 
the  neck — except  those  following  diphtheria  or  scarlet-fever — 
should  always  be  considered  of  sufficient  importance  to  re- 
quire medical  advice  ;  for  these  enlarged  glands  are  usu- 
ally the  forerunners  of  other  scrofulous  manifestations.  In 
Part  II  may  be  found  some  general  directions  for  the  care 
of  those  thus  affected,  which,  if  properly  followed,  will  more 
than  repay  all  time  thus  given,  for  old  scrofulous  ulcers  and 
fistula?  are  among  the  most  persistent  and  annoying  of  ail- 
ments. 

The  lymphatic  fluid,  so  named  from  its  resemblance  to 
water  {lympha),  circulates,  or,  more  properly,  percolates, 
through  all  the  tissues  of  the  body,  by  means  of  an  intermin- 
able network  of  lymphatics,  and  the  perivascular  spaces.  Thus 
all  of  the  body  is  supplied  both  with  blood  and  lymph  by 
means  of  the  two  circulatory  systems  of  the  body;  namely, 
the  lymphatic  and  the  sanguinous,  or  that  containing  the  blood. 
The  lymphatics  differ  from  arteries  and  veins  in  that  the  latter 
unite  to  form  trunks  of  increasing  size,  whereas  the  lymphatics 
pursue,  as  it  were,  an  independent  course,  not  enlarging  much 
in  diameter,  though  they  freely  communicate  with  each  other. 
Moreover,  the  fluid  which  is  constantly  passing  through  the 
veins  performs  its  circuit  under  the  impulse  of  the  heart's  ac- 
tion, while  the  lymphatic  fluid  is  propelled  solely  by  the 
action  of  the  walls  of  the  lymphatic  vessels,  whose  exact  ac- 
tion is  not  yet  definitely  understood.  The  structure  of  these 
lymphatic  vessels  is  not  unlike  that  of  the  smaller  veins,  ex- 
cept that  the  lymphatics  are  more  delicate  and  transparent, 
though  their  two  coats  may  be  recognized,  and  in  the  case  of 
the  thoracic  duct  separated. 

As  may  be  inferred  from  what  has  previously  been  said  in 
regard  to  the  circulation  of  lymph,  the  lymphatic  vessels 


The  Wheel  at  the  Cisteex.  [i  , 

have  a  propulsive  power  of  their  own,  the  absorbents  having 
been  seen  to  contract  and  propel  their  contents  with  consid- 
erable power,  independent  of  pressure  or  motion  communi- 
cated from  other  parts  of  the  body;  and  this  motion  is  aided 
by  the  presence  of  valves  in  the  course  of  the  lymphatics, 
one  or  two  always  being  found  where  the  absorbents  open 
into  the  veins,  to  prevent  regurgitation  of  blood. 

There  is  much  yet  to  be  learned  concerning  the  lymphatics 
and  their  contents;  but  we  may  summarize  our  present  knowl- 
edge as  follows: 

Chyle  is  the  fluid  contained  in  the  lacteals  or  the  lymphat- 
ics of  the  intestines.  This  fluid  is  transparent  after  fasting, 
but  milky  during  digestion,  owing  to  the  presence  of  minute 
particles  of  fat.  Chyle  taken  from  the  thoracic  duct  is  dis- 
tinctly yellowish  or  pinky  white  in  color,  with  a  salty  taste; 
and  after  its  removal  from  the  body  forms  a  pinkish  white 
clot,  from  which  an  opalescent  fluid  is  squeezed  out  as  the 
clot  grows  firmer. 

Lymph  differs  from  chyle  in  that  the  former  contains  no 
fat,  but  is  a  watery  fluid  containing  what  are  known  as  lymph 
corpuscles,  which  are  probably  identical  with  the  colorless 
blood  corpuscles.  In  fact,  some  believe  that  these  corpuscles 
are  formed  during  the  passage  of  lymph  through  its  vessels. 
In  short  we  find: 

1.  That  lymph  and  chyle  are  substantially  alike,  except 
that  chyle  contains  fat,  and  lymph  none,  or  nearly  none. 

2.  Lymph  and  chyle  are  substantially  like  blood,  the 
difference  being  only  one  of  degree.  In  fact,  these  liquids 
are  possibly  rudimental  blood,  containing  corpuscles  in  proc- 
ess of  development  into  red  corpuscles.  The  difference  be- 
tween the  lymph  and  chyle  and  the  blood  becomes  less  and 
less  as  the  two  former  pass  through  the  thoracic  duct,  or,  in 
other  words,  as  they  approach  the  place  where  they  are  to 
be  mingled  with  the  blood. 

'■'>.  Blood,  lymph  and  chyle  agree  in  that  they  contain 
fibrine  and  coagulate  spontaneously,  although  the  clot  of 
lymph  and  chyle  is  softer  than  that  of  blood.     In  this  prop- 


98  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

erty  of  spontaneous  coagulation  they  differ  from  all  other 
animal  fluids. 

What  is  coagulation  ?  A  Latin  term  for  the  process  of 
clotting;  a  phenomenon  that,  fortunately  for  us,  occurs  in  the 
blood  whenever  it  is  exposed  to  the  air.  In  the  days  when 
bleeding  was  part  of  the  treatment  for  almost  every  disease 
great  stress  was  laid  upon  the  appearance  of  the  blood  clot 
which  formed  in  the  basin  wherein  the  blood  was  caught. 
Latterly  it  has  been  learned  that  the  appearance  of  the  clot 
is  largely  due  to  the  amount  of  fibrine  it  contains,  and 
that  the  coagulation  of  the  blood  depends  upon  the  fibrine 
found  there,  or,  more  properly,  formed  there;  for  there  is 
reason  to  believe  that  fibrine  does  not  exist  as  such  in  the 
blood,  but  is  formed  by  a  chemical  reaction  between  sub- 
stances found  in  the  blood  plasma  and  blood  serum. 

The  difference  between  these  two  fluids  is  this:  blood 
plasma  is  the  fluid  in  which  the  corpuscles,  hereafter  to  be 
described,  float,  while  blood  serum  is  the  fluid  which  sep- 
arates from  clotted  blood  upon  standing;  or  blood  serum  is 
blood  minus  the  clot,  or  blood  plasma  minus  its  fibrine,  if 
we  accept  the  former  idea  that  fibrine  is  held  in  solution 
in  the  watery  part  of  the  blood.  Fibrine  can  readily  be 
obtained  in  long  threads  by  whipping  fresh  blood  with 
twigs,  but  the  latest  teaching  on  the  subject  is  that  it  is  not 
held  in  solution,  or  only  in  part.  It  is  now  supposed  that 
during  the  whipping  fibrine  is  formed  by  the  reaction  of 
two  other  substances  (fibrino-plastin  and  fibrinogen).  One 
of  these  can  be  readily  obtained  from  any  serous  exudate  of 
the  body,  and  can  be  kept  indefinitely  without  coagulation 
unless  blood  serum  be  added  to  it,  when  clotting  immediately 
takes  place. 

Thus  it  seems  proven  that  the  coagulation  of  the  blood 
and  the  formation  of  fibrine  are  caused  primarily  by  the  inter- 
action of  two  substances  (or  two  modifications  of  the  same 
substance),  fibrino-plasters  and  fibrinogen,  the  former  of  which 
exists  in  the  serum  of  the  blood  and  in  some  tissues  of  the 
body;  while  the  latter  is  known  at  the  p resent  only  in  the 


The  Wheel  at  the  Cisterx.  99 

plasma  of  the  blood,  of  the  lymph  and  of  the  chyle,  and  fluids 
derived  from  them. 

Fibrine  is  insoluble  in  water,  alcohol,  and  ether,  soluble  in 
dilute  alkalies  forming  albuminates.     When  digested  with  a 
two  per  cent,  solution  of  muriatic  acid,  fibrine  is  transformed 
into  a  semi-transparent,  jelly-like  mass.     By  the  action  of 
gastric  juice,  fibrine  is  converted  into  peptone,  the  change 
being  a  chemical  one  and  not  one  of  simple  solution.     If  the 
gastric  juice  contains  but  little  pepsin  the  products  of  the 
digestion  of  fibrine  with  this  fluid  will  be  precipitated  by 
neutralizing  the  solution.     By  the  action  of  pancreatic  juice 
fibrine  is  transformed  into  peptone,  for  which  see  Chapter  III. 
But  however  formed,  or  digested,  fibrine  is  the  most  impor- 
tant element  found  in  the  blood,  as  regards  the  preservation 
of  life.     If   it  were  not  for  this  substance,  in  the  blood  or 
formed  from  it,  the  slightest  nick  into  a  blood-vessel  would 
necessarily  cause  death;  for  the  only  reason  that  blood  ever 
ceases  to  flow  from  such  an  opening  is  that  the  passage  of 
the  blood  over  the  edges  of  the  artery  causes  a  clot  of  blood 
and  fibrine  in  the  wound  and  thus  stanches  the  flow.     Later 
the  coloring  matter  of  the  blood-clot  is  taken  up,  and  the 
fibrine  becomes  organized,  as  it  is  called,  or  so  like  natural 
tissue  that  it  can  indefinitely  serve  in  its  stead,  and  thus  the 
gap  is  permanently  filled.     Occasionally  we  find  persons  in 
whom  the  process  is  imperfectly  performed,  and  hence  they 
are  known  as  bleeders,  because  the  slightest  wound  becomes 
a  grave  source  of  danger  from  their  inability  to  check  the 
bleeding  originating  therefrom.    As  trivial  a  matter  as  draw- 
ing a  tooth  may  cost  such  a  bleeder  his  life,  for  the  oozing 
may  persist  from  the  tooth  socket  until,  death  ensues  from 
exhaustion.     The   late  Duke   of    Albany  died  from  a  like 
trivial  accident,  for  he  was  one  of  those  in  whom  a  scratch 
is  a  serious  event,  and  so  would  it  be  with  all  of  us  if  it  were 
not  for  this  property  of  spontaneous  coagulation  in  blood 
exposed  to   the  air.     Blood  will  also  coagulate  within  the 
vein-  niter  death,  but  this   takes  place    more;   slowly  than  in 
blood  drawn    from   the    body.      When    from   any    reason    the 


100  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

fibrine  contracts  less  rapidly  than  usual,  a  white  layer  forms 
on  the  surface  of  the  clot,  consisting  of  fibrine  and  white 
corpuscles,  forming  what  is  known  as  the  buffy  coat.  This 
buffy  coat  contracts  more  rapidly  than  the  rest  of  the  clot, 
so  that  a  cup-like  depression  is  found  on  the  surface  of  the 
clot,  which  is  then  said  to  be  cupped.  These  coagulatory 
changes  are  hastened  by  a  variety  of  circumstances,  among 
the  more  important  of  which  are  : 

Sex.  IVomoSs  blood  coagulates  more  rapidly  than  the 
blood  of  men,  but  the  clot  is  less  firm.  Embryonic  blood 
coagulates  imperfectly.  Arterial  blood  coagulates  more  rap- 
idly than  venous. 

A  warmth  of  100  to  120  degrees  F.  (37.8  to  48.0  degrees 
C.)  promotes  coagulation.  A  higher  temperature  than  this 
retards  it,  while  a  temperature  of  200  degrees  F.  (93.3  de- 
grees C.)  stops  coagulation  altogether,  even  after  the  blood 
has  been  cooled.  Conversely,  a  cold  of  40  degrees  F. 
(4.5  degrees  C.)  entirely  stops  coagulation  ;  but  coagula- 
tion will,  under  these  circumstances,  take  place  as  well  as  ever 
after  the  normal  temperature  of  the  blood  has  been  restored. 

Motio?}  retards  coagulation,  but  rest  promotes  it. 

The  multiplication  of  points  of  contact  promotes  coagula- 
tion. Thus  we  whip  blood  with  a  bundle  of  twigs  to  coag- 
ulate the  fibrine.  Or,  again,  the  blood  coagulates  more  rapidly 
in  the  rough  cavities  of  the  heart  than  in  the  smooth  veins 
and  arteries.  Conversely,  coagulation  is  retarded  by  a  variety 
of  circumstances,  some  of  which  have  already  been  men- 
tioned, among  which  are: 

(a)  Cold,  which,  according  to  some  experimenters,  if  suf- 
ficient, entirely  prevents. 

(b)  TJie  addition  of  soluble  matter  to  the  blood.  Many 
saline  substances,  and  more  especially  sulphate  of  soda  and 
common  salt,  the  alkaline  hydrates,  carbonates,  and  acetates 
dissolved  in  the  blood  in  sufficient  quantity,  prevent  its 
coagulation  ;  but  coagulation  sets  in  when  water  is  added  so 
as  to  dilute  the  saline  solution.  The  same  is  true  of  dilute 
acids,  potassic  and  calcic  nitrates,  and  ammonia  chloride. 


The  Wheel  at  the  Cistern.  101 

(c)  Contact  with  living  tissue  retards  coagulation,  while 
contact  with  dead  or  foreign  tissue  favors  it.  Thus  we  pass 
a  thread  through  an  aneurism  to  form  a  nucleus  for  coagula- 
tion  and  to  assist  the  cure.  Blood  drawn  into  a  basin  begins 
to  coagulate  where  it  touches  the  sides  of  the  basin,  and  a 
wire  acts  like  a  thread  in  an  aneurism. 

(d)  Large  dilution  with  water  retards,  if  the  quantity- 
used  is  greater  than  twice  the  bulk  of  the  blood. 

(e)  Exclusion  of  air  retards,  and  certain  gases  apparently 
prevent  entirely  coagulation  of  the  blood. 

(f)  The  mode  of  death.  Thus  in  death  by  asphyxia, 
where  the  blood  is  imperfectly  aerated,  coagulation  is  re- 
tarded. According  to  Hunter,  the  same  result  occurs  in 
death  from  lightning,  blows  on  the  stomach,  over-exertion, 
fits  of  anger. 

Some  little  space  has  been  given  to  the  matter  of  the  coagu- 
lation of  the  blood  for  the  reason  that  the  explanation  of  co- 
agulation in  many  of  our  text-books  is  imperfect,  and  second- 
ly because  we  have  no  more  striking  instance  of  Almighty 
foresight  than  the  formation  of  these  tiny  white  threads  in 
freshly  flowing  blood.  These  soft  curly  bits  seem  a  very  ineffi- 
cient means  to  stay  an  alarming  hemorrhage,  but  feeble  as 
they  appear  they  are  the  threads  upon  which  life  literally 
hangs,  for  science  knows  no  means  by  which  bleeding  can  be 
permanently  arrested  without  the  aid  of  these  threads  of 
fibrine.  Fibrine  and  coagulable  lymph,  which  is  nearly  the 
same  thing,  are  nature's  carpenters  and  joiners  to  repair  the 
breaks  made  in  the  house  in  which  we  live,  which,  without 
their  aid,  would  become  too  dilapidated  for  habitation  before 
its  occupant  had  passed  through  childhood.  No  other  article 
of  dress  wears  half  so  long  or  well  as  the  body,  for  none  other 
of  our  clothes  can  repair  themselves  as  does  this  house  of 
clay.     Let  us  look  for  a  moment  at  how  this  is  done. 

The  best  thing  that  can  happen  to  a  wound  is  to  have  it  heal, 
as  the  Burgeons  say,  by  first  intention,  that  is,  that  its  edges 
shall  immediately  grow  together  after  the  bleeding  has  been 
checked.     The  arrest  of  bleeding  is  due,  as  has  already  been 


102  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

said,  to  the  formation  of  a  clot  in  the  rough  edges  of  the  cut 
blood-vessels,  whose  inner  coat  is  clastic,  and  retracts  so  as 
to  form  an  edge  for  the  formation  of  a  clot.  This  acts  as  a 
plug  within  the  bleeding  vessel,  if  not  too  large,  and  thus 
stops  the  hemorrhage.  If  now  the  edges  of  the  wound  can 
be  accurately  brought  together,  in  the  course  of  an  hour  or 
two  they  become  reddened  and  slightly  swollen.  This  swell- 
ing is  due  to  an  interference  in  the  circulation  of  blood  in  the 
part,  which  causes  the  exudation  of  plastic  material  through 
the  walls  of  the  blood-vessels — to  be  described  later  in  this 
chapter.  This  plastic  material  is  like  the  temporary  callus, 
described  in  connection  with  broken  bones  (see  Chapter  II), 
and  like  it  glues  together  the  sides  of  the  wound,  provided 
there  is  no  foreign  substance  to  interfere  and  the  edges  of  the 
wound  have  not  been  bruised  or  otherwise  injured.  This  is 
the  result  which  every  surgeon  hopes  to  obtain  when  he  care- 
fully cleanses  and  stitches  together  the  edges  of  a  fresh 
cut,  whether  made  by  himself  or  accident.  Sometimes 
the  process  is  so  perfect  that  there  is  absolutely  no  scar,  but 
more  frequently  a  narrow  white  line  can  be  seen  after  adhe- 
sion has  taken  place.  This  whiteness  is  due  to  a  destruction 
of  the  skin — as  is  seen  also  in  the  pits  of  small-pox;  for  true 
skin  is  never  reproduced,  but  the  gap  filled  in  as  best  it  may 
be  with  plastic  lymph,  which  at  first  is  soft  and  sticky  as 
fresh  glue,  but  later  hardens  into  a  tough  white  substance, 
known  as  cicatrix,  the  Latin  name  for  scar.  Much  else  of 
the  body  is  replaced  every  few  months,  but  a  cicatrix  is  un- 
changeable, for  it  contains  no  germinal  matter — and  hence 
remains  as  more  or  less  of  a  deformity  during  life.  But  a 
scar  is  better  than  a  gaping  wound,  and  is  the  best  result 
that  can  be  hoped  from  a  large  wound,  or  an  extensive  burn, 
for  if  repair  does  not  take  place  in  this  way  the  only  thing 
that  can  then  be  done  is  to  trust  to  the  slower  process  of 
union  by  granulation.  This  is  what  usually  happens  after 
serious  burns,  or  extensive  injuries,  where  the  edges  of  the 
wound  are  too  far  separated  to  be  glued  together  by  plastic 
lymph.     In  these  cases  we  find  the  swelling  about  the  neigh- 


The  Wheel  at  the  Cistern.  103 

boring  blood-vessels  so  great  that  not  only  plastic  lymph  es- 
capes through  their  walls,  but  also  the  lymph,  blood  and  pus 
corpuscles.  Or  in  other  words  the  wound  is  said  to  maturate 
and  discharge  pus.  Beneath  this  pus,  granulations — "  proud 
flesh " — form  in  the  shape  of  rosy  red  mounds  that  en- 
deavor by  their  rapid  growth  to  fill  up  the  gap,  until  on  a 
level  with  the  surrounding  skin,  which  it  at  last  unites  by  a 
cicatrix,  exactly  as  in  the  case  of  union  by  first  intention. 
At  least  that  is  what  is  sought  to  be  done,  but  sometimes  the 
strength  of  the  patient  gives  out  before  the  process  is  com- 
pleted, either  from  a  too  profuse  discharge  of  pus,  or  too 
srreat  inflammation.  And  what  is  this  inflammation  so 
greatly  dreaded  in  a  wound?  Inflammation,  according  to 
our  present  theories,  is  a  conflict  between  the  white  blood  cor- 
puscles and  minute  forms  of  life,  so  tiny  that  they  cannot  be 
seen  except  through  a  microscope.  These  beings  are  known 
as  microbes,  and  will  be  more  fully  described  in  Chapter  VIII; 
for  the  present  it  is  sufficient  to  remember  that  they  lodge 
and  grow  in  every  fresh  cut.  Their  presence  there  produces 
the  heat,  pain,  and  swelling  of  an  inflaming  wound,  in  which 
the  white  blood  corpuscles  are  doing  their  utmost  to  over- 
whelm these  invaders.  Inflammation  then  is,  as  Mr.  Sutton 
well  puts  it,  "  a  battle  between  the  microbes  and  the  white 
blood  corpuscles;  the  latter  are  the  defending  army,  whose 
roads  and  base  of  supplies  are  the  blood-vessels."  Re- 
cent experiments  seem  to  show  that  the  method  adopted 
by  the  white  blood  corpuscle  to  dispose  of  its  adversary  is 
to  envelope  the  attacking  microbe  and  devour  it.  These  de- 
vouring white  corpuscles  constitute  the  pus  or  matter  so  freely 
discharged  from  an  inflamed  wound. 

There  is  no  more  wonderful  thing  in  our  wonderful  bodies 
than  these  same  white  eorpuseles,  or  leucocytes,  as  they 
an'  sometimes  called.  Twenty-five  hundred  of  them  must 
be  laid  in  a  line  together  before  they  measure  an  inch,  but 
they  are  undoubtedly  the  most  truly  vital  parts  of  our  bodies. 
These  bits  of  colorless  matter,  which  occupy  only  one  twenty- 
five-hundredth  of  an  inch  in  diameter  each,  arc  in  incessant 


104  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

movement,  not  only  from  their  being  carried  forward  by  the 
current  of  the  blood,  but  from  independent  motion  of  their 


Leucocytes. 

own.  When  watched  beneath  the  microscope  they  slowly 
writhe  and  twist  like  an  impatient  school-boy  kept  in  after 
school.  The  cut  well  shows  these  changes  of  form,  which 
occur  from  movements  in  every  part  of  the  white  corpuscle, 
contracting  and  dilating,  like  one  of  the  lower  forms  of 
organisms  (amoeba)  which  are  found  in  stagnant  water. 

While  living  and  moving  the  structure  of  the  white  cor- 
puscles can  be  ascertained  with  difficulty,  if  at  all;  but  by 
largely  diluting  blood  with  water  or  weak  acetic  acid  the 
vitality  of  these  moving  bodies  is  destroyed  and  they  swell 
up,  and  now  they  are  seen  to  be  roundish  sacks  with  very 
thin  walls  which  hold  within  them  a  colorless  fluid  contain- 
ing more  or  less  granular  matter,  which  is  gathered  together 
in  an  irregular  form  in  the  center.  Huxley  believes  this  cen- 
tral body  is  the  red  corpuscle,  hereafter  to  be  described, 
which  is  set  free  by  the  bursting  of  the  sack  of  the  white 
corpuscle. 

Whether  these  white  corpuscles  bear  this  relation  to  the 
red  corpuscles  is  still  under  dispute.  Dalton  thinks  there  is 
no  evidence  of  any  transformation  of  the  white  corpuscles 
into  the  red  either  in  man  or  the  lower  animals,  while  Huxley, 
as  we  have  seen,  inclines  to  the  belief  that  "  the  red  corpus- 
cle is  simply  the  nucleus  of  the  colorless  corpuscle  some- 
what enlarged,  flattened  from  side  to  side,  changed  by  the 
development  within  itself  of  a  red  coloring  matter.  ...  In 
other  words,  the  red  corpuscle  is  a  nucleus  free."  Others  be- 
lieve the  red  originate  in  the  spleen,  and  others  think  the  red 
marrow  of  the  bones  converts  protoplasmic  marrow  cells  into 
red   corpuscles.     Nor   do  we    know  much   more    about   the 


The  Wheel  at  the  Cistern.  lod 

origin  of  the  white  corpuscles  except  that  they  possibly  be- 
gin their  existence  as  the  lymph  corpuscles  already  described. 
Where  then  the  white  corpuscle  originates,  or  whither  it  is 
going,  we  know  but  little  more  than  that  it  is  a  form  of 
germinal  matter,  vital,  moving,  vigilant  to  beat  back  the  in- 
visible foes  with  which  the  body  is  constantly  assailed,  and 
possibly  performing  other  duties  as  well. 

According  to  Klein,  some  of  these  white  corpuscles  are 
stationed  in  the  lymphatic  glands,  where  they  lie  in  wait  in 
their  meshes  to  devour  inflammatory  and  other  products  as 
they  are  caught  in  the  filters,  but  the  bulk  of  these  colorless 
corpuscles  are  constantly  wheeling  to  and  fro,  backward  and 
forward,  through  the  blood-vessels,  as  it  was  once  thought, 
aimlessly;  but,  if  we  accept  MetshnikofTs  theories,  they  are 
under  arms  to  repel  bacterial  invaders.  This  observer 
has  carefully  studied  the  behavior  of  certain  of  the  bacteria 
in  the  blood  of  the  lower  animals.  Where  it  was  found 
these  animals  were  not  susceptible  to  the  diseases  caused 
by  bacteria,  it  was  found  that  the  white  corpuscles  en- 
veloped these  lower  forms  of  life  within  themselves,  and 
thus  prevented  their  multiplication,  but  when  the  white  cor- 
puscles failed  to  do  this  the  animal  experienced  the  disease 
in  all  its  virulence.  If  this  holds  true  for  man,  our  health 
and  life  even  hang  on  these  invisible  squirming  points  of 
matter  far  more  than  it  pleases  our  pride  to  think.  They 
are  our  Swiss  body-guards,  whose  ceaseless  vigilance  makes 
life  possible,  by  giving  up  their  lives  in  the  defense  of  the 
house  in  which  we  live. 

But  the  blood  has  other  duties  than  simply  to  patch  a  flaw 
and  beat  back  bacterial  invaders.  The  crimson  color,  greasy 
feel,  and  characteristic  odor  of  fresh  blood  are  known  to  all, 
but  few  have  any  just  idea  of  what  an  exceedingly  complex 
compound  blood  really  is.  "  Red  as  blood  "  is  one  of  the  old- 
est of  similes,  but  the  microscope  shows  us  that  blood  is  in  re- 
ality not  red,  but  a  colorless  fluid  in  which  float  an  innumer- 
able number  of  amber  disks,  which,  when  gathered  together 
in  mass,  give  blood  its  color.      This  color   varies  with  the 


106  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

source  from  which  the  blood  is  obtained,  for  blood  spurting 
from  an  artery  is  florid  red,  while  that  which  flows  from 
an  opened  vein  is  purplish  B 

in  tint.     This  variation  in  -^ 

color  is  due  to  changes  in 
each  of  the  red  corpuscles, 
whose  numbers  are  almost 
inconceivable,  for  a  cubic 
inch  of  blood  contains  sev- 
enty times  as  many  red  cor- 
puscles as  the   world  does  Corpuscles  of  Human  Blood. 
inhabitants.    Nevertheless,  (Magnified  about  eoo  diameters.) 
each  of  these  is  well  worth      a.  Red   corpuscles:   a,   a    corpuscle  seen 
Our    careful    Study  beneath   edgeways ;  b,  a  corpuscle  in  an  altered  state, 
.                       J                 .      arising  from  pressure.      A  small  spheroidal 
the    microscope,     where    it   red  corpuscle,  such  as  may  be  frequently  met 

must  be  made*    for  the  red  with  in  the  Dl00d«  is  represented  beside  tbe 

larger  discoidal  ones, 
corpuscles  are  even  smaller      jj.  Colorless  corpuscles:  a,  a  colorless  cor- 

(one  thirty-two-hundredths  Puscle  acted    uP°n  °y  diluted  acetic  acid, 

P  , \   J ,  ,  ,  .         showing  its  nucleus, 

or  an  inch)  than  the  white. 

But  they  are  no  less  important  to  the  body,  for  if  the  white 
corpuscles  may  be  likened  to  body-guards,  red  corpuscles  are 
liveried  servants,  ceaselessly  hurrying  to  and  fro  to  feed  the 
germinal  matter  of  the  body. 

The  French  call  the  blood  "running  flesh,"  and  aptly  ;  for 
flesh  or  muscle  is  made  up  of  a  multitude  of  stationary, 
waiting  servants.  In  the  blood  we  find  the  corpuscles  taking 
the  pface  of  the  muscular  stria,  or  checkers,  already  described. 
These  blood  corpuscles  are  the  wraiters  in  this  hotel  in  which 
we  live,  and  they  are  kept  exceedingly  busy,  for  they  are 
only  given  about  two  minutes  to  make  their  entire  round. 
They  start  out  from  the  lungs,  as  we  shall  hereafter  see, 
very  ruddy  and  jolly  from  their  draughts  of  fresh  air,  but  as 
they  hurry  onward,  exchanging  their  surplus  oxygen  for  ref- 
use carbonic  dioxide,  they  at  last  become  blue  and  overload- 
ed, and  finally  stagger  into  the  air-cells  of  the  lungs,  just  in 
time  to  save  themselves  and  us  from  death  by  asphyxia.  So 
accurately  is  the  whole  matter  arranged  that  a  few  minutes' 


The  Wheel  at   the  Cistern.  107 

delay  anywhere  along  the  line  is  matter  of  serious  importance 
to  all  concerned.  This  change  in  the  color  of  the  blood  can 
be  readily  shown  by  winding  several  turns  of  twine  tightly 
about  the  root  of  a  finger.  In  a  few  seconds  it  loses  its  rosy 
tint  and  becomes  dusky  and  swollen.  If  the  experiment  is 
persisted  in  long  enough,  and  the  twine  tightly  enough  wound, 
the  finger  may  actually  mortify,  or  die  from  lack  of  blood,  or 
rather  lack  of  aerated  blood,  for  no  other  will  feed  and  keep 
alive  germinal  matter.  Aerated  blood,  then,  differs  from  blue 
blood  in  that  the  red  corpuscles  of  the  former  contain  oxygen, 
and  in  the  latter  the  oxygen  is  largely  replaced  by  carbon  diox- 
ide gas,  which  changes  the  tint  of  the  red  corpuscle  from  amber 
to  blue,  owing  to  the  effect  that  these  gases  produce  upon 
one  of  the  constituents  (haemoglobin)  of  the  red  corpuscle. 
Haemoglobin  is  an  iron  compound,  of  which  there  is  said  to 
be  enough  in  the  blood  to  enable  a  sentimental  Frenchman  to 
make  a  mourning  iron  finger-ring  from  the  blood  of  his  friend. 
Haemoglobin  is  the  most  important  chemical  constituent  of 
the  red  corpuscles  of  the  higher  animals,  for  in  man,  the  dog, 
pig,  and  ox,  the  red  corpuscles  are  almost  entirely  pure  haemo- 
globin, and  in  fact,  solution  of  hemoglobin  behaves  almost 
exactly  like  blood  in  regard  to  its  change  of  color  with 
various  gases.  A  watery  solution  of  haemoglobin  has  the 
bright  red  color  of  arterial  blood,  and  like  it  contains  oxygen, 
so  loosely  held  in  combination  that  it  can  be  removed  by  an 
air-pump.  If  a  current  of  nitrogen,  hydrogen,  or  carbon 
dioxide  gas  is  sent  through  a  solution  of  haemoglobin  it 
Loses  its  bright  red  color  and  takes  on  the  hue  of  venous 
blood.  If  now  this  solution  of  haemoglobin  be  shaken  with 
the  aif,  oxygen  is  absorbed  and  the  solution  again  becomes 
bright  red,  and  the  change  may  be  indefinitely  repeated. 
So  then  we  conclude  thai  the  change  in  the  color  of  the  blood 
corpuscles  i^  not  due  to  their  change  in  form,  as  was  once 
taught,  but  is  dependent  on  the  relative  oxidation  of  its 
haemoglobin,  or  blood-coloring  matter.  Thus,  in  arterial 
blood  the  haemoglobin  is  oxidized  and  of  a  scarlet  color,  while 
in  venous  blood  a  part  of  the  haemoglobin  is  deoxidized  and 


108  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

of  a  purple  color.  Possibly  the  physical  condition  of  the  cor- 
puscles, and  also  the  presence  of  carbonic  acid,  may  be 
elements  in  the  case  ;  nevertheless,  there  can  be  but  little 
doubt  that  the  change  of  color  is  primarily,  if  not  entirely, 
due  to  the  oxidation  and  deoxidation  of  the  hemoglobin. 

To  recapitulate,  the  blood  is  to  the  naked  eye  a  crimson- 
red  fluid,  but  under  the  microscope  it  is  found  to  be  in  reality 
a  colorless  fluid  in  which  float  a  multitude  of  minute  bodies, 
to  which  the  name  of  corpuscles  has  been  given.  These  are 
of  various  sizes  and  shapes,  the  largest  (one  twenty-five- 
hundredths  of  an  inch),  being  known  as  Avhite  or  colorless 
corpuscles.  These  are  probably  identical  with  lymph  and 
pus  corpuscles,  whose  functions  have  already  been  described. 
The  red  corpuscles  are  the  oxygen  carriers  for  the  body,  and 
are  more  numerous  and  smaller  than  the  white  corpuscles. 
The  red  corpuscles  make  up  about  one  half  of  the  bulk  of 
the  blood,  and  in  shape  closely  resemble  a  microscopic  muffin 
— and  a  heavy  one  at  that,  for  its  top  and  bottom  are  sunken 
so  as  to  make  the  edge  of  the  muffin  biconcave;  hence  when 
viewed  edgewise  they  appear  as  rods  with  slightly  expanded 
ends.  Their  transverse  diameter  is  from  one  three-thousandth 
to  one  thirty-two-hundredth  of  an  inch,  and  their  consistence 
apparently  about  that  of  a  stiff  jelly,  for  if  watched  beneath 
the  microscope  the  red  corpuscles  are  found  first  to  fluctuate 
and  then  to  arrange  themselves  in  piles,  like  rouleaux  of  coin, 
adhering  to  each  other  by  their  broad  surfaces,  very  likely 
from  the  coagulation,  already  described,  taking  place  in  the 
blood.  Great  dilution  of  the  blood  causes  the  red  corpuscles 
to  swell,  and  solutions  of  certain  salts  cause  them  to  lose  their 
smooth  outlines  and  become  irregular  or  crenated,  and  still 
further  shrinking  causes  them  to  become  covered  with  minute 
projections  something  like  a  horse-chestnut. 

What  are  known  as  N orris's  third  or  invisible  corpuscles 
are  probably  simply  discolored  red  corpuscles;  but  others 
which  have  been  described  as  ha3matoblasts  deserve  a  little 
further  attention.  These  hamiatoblasts  are  granular  matter 
more  or  less  oval  in  form,  paler,  and  about  one  third  to  one 


The  Wheel  at  the  Cistern.  109 

half  the-  size  of  the  red  blood  corpuscle,  and  arc  always  found 
in  the  blood  of  man  and  mammals.  By  many  they  are  re- 
garded simply  as  granular  debris  carried  along  by  the  circu- 
lation; but  by  others  (Hayem,  Osier,  Kemp)  are  thought  to 
be  elementary  red  corpuscles  or  intermediate  forms  in  their 
development.  Recently  they  have  been  called  blood  plaques, 
or  plates,  a  term  worth  preserving  for  the  sake  of  clearly  dis- 
tinguishing them  from  the  other  varieties  of  corpuscles  found 
in  the  blood.  These  plaques  are  composed  of  smooth,  struct- 
ureless protoplasm,  but  whether  with  or  without  a  nucleus 
is  not  yet  determined  ;  and  they  have  a  remarkable  tendency 
to  adhere  to  one  another  and  adjacent  objects  when  removed 
from  the  blood-vessels. 

The  origin  of  these  blood  plaques  is  still  a  matter  of  dispute, 
for  they  are  variously  regarded  as  young  red  blood  corpus- 
cles; as  derived  from  the  red  corpuscles;  as  de- 
rived from  the  white  corpuscles;  as  nuclei  float- 
ing free  in  the  blood;  as  fibrin,  and,  finally,  as 
independent  elements.     It  seems  scarcely  worth 
while  to  mention  the  evidence  upon  which  these 
views  have  been  founded.    Suffice  it  to  say  that 
all  have  been  carefully  examined  byjvemp,  and 
1.  Blood  plaques,  sufficient  evidence  brought   against   all    other 
colorless  and  vary-  theories  to  render  them  most  improbable,  except 

ing  a  little  in  size.  . r  x 

2.  Miciocytesof  a  the    one   that   considers  the   third  corpuscles  as 

deep  red  color,  hajmatoblasts,  or  young  red  corpuscles.     That 

'i.    Two    ordinary     .  '  t  \  t   •  i 

red    corpuscles,  they  are  not  due  to  changes  produced  m  other 

4.  Asoiidtrunsiu-  elements  after  the  blood  is  drawn  is  shown  by 

cent,  lymphoid        ...  .        n  ,  .  .,  .  .    \ 

cell  or  free  nu-  packing  the  linger  under  osmic  acid,  which 
flteus.  coagulates  all  of  the  other  elements  of  the  blood 

as  they  leave  the  blood-vessel  and  still  these  blood  plaques 
may  be  shown  in  the  fluid.  Furthermore,  we  could  scarcely 
ask  for  more  conclusive  proof  than  that  five  competent  ob- 
servers have  Been  them  circulating  in  the  vessels  of  the  mes- 
entery and  in  the  uninjured  vessels  of  the  connective  tissue 
of  young  rats.  Kemp's  opinion  is  that  they  are  bi-concave, 
like  the  red  corpuscles,  and  that   they  are  in  all  probability 


110  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

incipient  red  corpuscles.  If  so,  we  are  a  step  nearer  their 
origin ;  but  we  have  yet  much  to  learn  concerning  all  of  the 
various  corpuscles  found  in  the  blood. 

There  is  a  time  before  birth  when  all  of  the  corpuscles  of 
the  blood  are  while,  gradually  becoming  mingled  with  the 
red  also.  Later  in  life  the  red  marrow  of  the  bones  gives 
birth  to  marrow  cells  which  are  apparently  converted  into 
red  corpuscles,  which  some  think  are  again  destroyed  in  the 
spleen;  others  that  they  are  formed  there  as  well. 

This,  then,  is  about  the  sum  of  our  knowledge  concerning 
the  origin  and  end  of  the  red  corpuscles,  which  give  to  blood 
its  vitalizing  power;  for  science  and  Moses  unite  in  declaring 
that  "blood  is  the  life,"  and  that  our  well-being  and  com- 
fort depend  more  largely  upon  its  composition  than  on  that  of 
any  other  fluid  of  the  body.  Excess  of  red  blood  corpuscles 
produces  vertigo,  plethora,  and  headache;  deficiency,  anaemia, 
pallor,  and  the  listlessness  so  common  to  the  school-girl  of 
to-day.  Pie,  cake,  the  piano,  and  the  bad  air  of  a  modern 
school-room  are  poor  materials  out  of  which  to  make  good 
blood;  and  good  blood  is  essential  to  health  and  happiness. 
Better  fewer  books,  better  less  company,  better  less  culture, 
better  less  almost  every  thing,  than  to  start  into  life  such 
wretched  apologies  for  womanhood  as  are  too  many  of  our 
high-school  graduates.  It  is  too  high  a  price  to  pay  for  our 
modern  civilization;  one  that  is  too  dearly  bought  even  at  the 
return  of  an  occasional  Jex  Blake  or  a  Frances  Willard. 
As  a  rule  it  is  bad  living  rather  than  mental  overwork  that 
is  to  blame  for  this  condition  of  affairs;  for  bad  air,  bad 
houses,  and  improper  food  will  ruin  the  best  animal,  and  it 
must  be  remembered  that  a  part  of  us  is  as  truly  animal  as 
the  beasts  that  are  nightly  tied  up  within  their  stalls.  There 
is  an  efficient  society  for  the  prevention  of  cruelty  to  ani- 
mals; but  there  seems  to  be  no  Henry  Bergh  to  interfere 
when  a  growing  child  abuses  the  animal  body  that  is  of  infinite- 
ly more  value  to  the  world  than  many  horses.  Moreover,  cus- 
tom and  fashion  have  so  contrived  to  Hem  in  a  growing  girl 
that  she  cannot  get  a  fair  chance  for  a  sound  body  without 


The  Wheel  at  the  Cistern.  Ill 

a  life-long  struggle  with  the  community.  "  The  natural  des- 
tination of  the  woman  over  thirty,"  says  Mr.  William  Blaikie, 
"  is  the  sofa,  a  shawl,  and  the  neuralgia.  And  why  ?  Be- 
cause until  recently  the  modern  girl  was  brought  up  in  such  a 
way  that  the  brain  is  developed  at  the  expense  of  her  red 
blood  corpuscles,  and  she  comes  to  womanhood  a  bundle  of 
nerves  and  physical  degeneration.  A  girl  has  as  good  a 
claim  to  strength  and  health  as  a  boy,  and  in  general  needs 
them  more  ;  but  she  can  acquire  them  in  no  other  way 
than  he  does,  namely,  by  systematic  exercise.  A  daily  half 
hour's  recess,  or  even  Saturday's  shopping,  cannot  supply  this, 
and  it  is  especially  for  the  growing  school-girl  and  the 
woman  of  sedentary  life  that  there  can  be  found  in  Part  II 
practical  hints  for  physical  culture,  carefully  prepared  by 
one  who  has  devoted  his  life  to  the  work.  Johns  Hopkins 
University  and  a  few  of  the  more  advanced  of  our  female 
seminaries  of  this  country  have  efficient  classes  in  physical 
culture  for  young  ladies;  but  such  institutions  are  lamentably 
few  and  far  between.  A  college  class,  however,  is  not  neces- 
sary for  this  purpose.  A  little  very  simple  apparatus,  and 
determination  and  perseverance  in  its  use  for  only  a  few  min- 
utes daily,  would  transform  many  a  listless  being  into  "a 
queen  and  sister  of  the  gods."  Tennis,  croquet,  boating, 
skating,  fencing,  tricycling,  and  horse-back  riding  are  all  good, 
and  if  regularly  practiced  may  be  substituted  for  the  exercises 
detailed  in  Part  II  when  possible.  Where  these  for  any  reason 
are  impossible,  walking  ought  to  be  substituted.  "Every 
girl  blessed  with  moderately  good  health  can  walk  a  mile  or 
two  every  day  and  feel  the  better  for  it."  The  more  confin- 
ing and  monotonous  one's  employment  the  greater  the  need 
for  daily  systematic  exercise,  and,  as  Blaikie  well  says,  no 
one  can  be  so  crowded  with  work  that  he  will  not  be  the 
better  for  a  short  walk  before  retiring;  and  the  greater  the 
pressure  of  other  duties  the  greater  and  more  pressing  the 
oeed  for  just  this  outing.  It  requires  no  little  resolution  and 
self-control  to  force  tireri  and  unwilling  feel  from  a  comfort- 
able seal  and  ;i  cozy  fireside;  but  unless  this  La  done  daily,  at 


112  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

some  present  inconvenience,  the  muscles  grow  soft  and  flabby, 
and  the  body  becomes  clogged  with  refuse. 

Fashion  onee  in  a  while  stumbles  upon  a  sensible  fad,  and 
just  now  it  is  walking  clubs  for  young  girls.  "The  magnifi- 
cent girl,"  says  the  New  York  News,  "  who  swings  along  at 
a  four-mile  gait  is  not  only  a  subject  for  reflection,  but  a 
theme  for  admiration,  congratulation,  and  tenderness.  Tins 
is  true  American  womanhood,  .  .  .  not  that  of  Washington 
living's  day,  when  flimsy  dresses  were  in  style,  which,  like 
Mary  Anderson's  classic  costumes,  required  to  be  damp- 
ened overnight  to  make  them  cling  closely  to  the  form. 
Paper-soled  shoes  were  then  in  general  favor,  and  those  were 
the  days  of  meager  meals  and  of  diseased  and  dyspeptic 
stomachs,  hesitating  hearts,  pinched  cheeks,  and  fragile 
limbs.  Fashionable  American  womanhood  of  the  past  was  a 
ghost. 

"American  womanhood  of  to-day  is  one  of  rosy  cheeks, 
sparkling  eyes,  shoulders  thrown  back,  firm  and  certain  step. 
Notice  how  well  nourished  the  cheeks  are,  how  deep  and 
true  the  inspirations,  and  how  plump  and  well-rounded  the 
arms,  which  taper  down  to  the  well-gloved  hands.  Is  it  not 
a  glorious  sight?  There  is  no  chance  for  paper-soled  shoes 
here.  Broad,  substantially  soled  button  boots  cover  the 
handsome,  muscular  feet,  and  in  place  of  the  tawdry  costume 
whose  likeness  is  preserved  for  us  by  dozens  of  old  engrav- 
ings, here  we  have  a  neat  and  well-made  cloth  suit,  which 
fits  the  owner's  form  to  perfection.  Can  any  thing  be  more 
satisfactory  to  the  eye  than  this  picture  of  honest  health,  of 
alert  though  not  perhaps  of  subtle  intelligence  and  womanly 
beauty  ?  There  may  be  no  suggestion  of  sentimentality  here, 
nothing  of  what  every-day  novelists  call  poetry,  and  there  is 
no  romantic  melancholy,  but  without  any  sacrifice  of  woman- 
liness there  is  grace,  and,  above  all,  there  are  life  and 
strength." 

Fashion  has  committed  many  abominations  in  her  day, 
and  doubtless  in  the  past  deserved  Dr.  John  Brown's  wish 
that  he  could  see  her  "  dressed  in   her  own  crinoline,  tight 


The  Wheel  at  the  Cistern.  113 

shoes,  a  man's  tall  hat,  and  trailing  petticoats,  with  her  taper 
waist  well  nipped  by  a  circlet  of  nails,  points  inmost,  and 
with  all  the  other  small  torments  with  which  she  makes  us 
all  fools,  sent  drummed,  hissing,  and  blazing  out  the  world;" 
but  it  should  be  remembered  that  never  before  in  the  knowl- 
edge of  the  writer  have  fashions  been  as  a  rule  so  sensible 
and  conducive  to  health  and  comfort  as  at  the  present  time. 
Even  common  sense  shoes  and  the  less  objectionable  forms 
of  corsets  may  be  found  in  the  wardrobes  of  those  who 
mold  the  fashions,  which  latterly  do  not  arise  solely  from 
the  caprices  of  queens  and  kings'  mistresses,  but  from  well- 
paid  artists  and  thrifty  manufacturers.  When  these  shall 
learn  to  cater  to  the  demands  of  health  as  well  as  to  the  eye 
the  millennium  for  women  is  not  far  off.  One  of  the  most 
efficient  workers  to  this  end  is  a  Mrs.  Jenness  Miller,  of 
Washington,  whose  wit  and  beauty  have  succeeded  in  dem- 
onstrating that  dress  may  be  both  healthful  and  beautiful 
at  the  same  time.  The  great  objection  to  the  proposed 
Bloomer  and  Mary  Walker  dress  reforms  was  that  it  left  its 
adherent  a  hideous  guy  among  women,  and  consequently  all 
such  advice  was  as  useless  as  St.  Anthony's  preaching  to  the 
fishes.  When,  however,  it  can  be  proven  that  a  woman  can 
be  both  comfortable  and  fashionable  at  the  same  time,  sooner 
or  later  comfort  will  win  the  day.  This  is  exactly  what 
Mrs.  Miller  is  striving  to  do,  arguing  that  fashionable  follies 
and  their  resulting  penalties  have  long  enough  been  supreme. 
"  No  Greek  ever  dreamed  of  wearing  sandals  an  inch  nar- 
rower than  her  foot,  and  elevated  on  heels  three  inches  hierh 
and  located  somewhere  near  the  middle  of  the  sole.  Neither 
did  she  ever  wear  a  sixteen-inch  corset,  or  fasten  an  uncouth 
bundle  of  fantastic  drapery  to  the  small  of  her  back  with 
long  skirts  to  trail  in  the  mud.  And  if  women  again  desire 
to  be  beautiful  after  the  Grecian  model  they  must  abandon 
these  abominations  of  fashion  in  the  shape  of  long  skirts  with 
their  endless  complications  of  loops,  puffs,  and  a  weight  that 
is  death  to  health  and  happiness  and  to  prolonged  usefulness. 
Science  objects  to  the  practice  of  lacing,  steeling  and  swad 


114  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

dling  for  the  reason  chiefly  that  it  is  inconvenient,  ugly,  and 
a  burden  of  sorrow  to  the  unborn  world.  Science  also  pro- 
poses dress  without  ligatures  or  bands,  steels  or  whalebones 
— the  essential  thing  being  freedom  from  pressure,  weight, 
and  deformity.  Science  and  sense  abhor  petticoats,  corsets, 
and  French  heels." 

Mrs.  Miller  therefore  entirely  discards  corsets,  petticoats, 
ligatures  and  bands,  and  clothes  her  body  after  this  fashion: 
Innermost  is  a  union  garment  of  silk  or  wool  for  winter, 
fitting  closely  as  a  jersey.  Over  that  is  worn  a  muslin  gar- 
ment, also  made  to  follow  the  form.  Then  leglets,  or,  in 
plain  English,  short  trowsers,  of  material  adopted  to  the  sea- 
son and  made  to  reach  just  below  the  knee.  Over  this, 
without  petticoats,  hangs  a  dress  made  princess  fashion,  of 
any  material  preferred,  but  so  cut  as  to  place  no  weight  upon 
the  hips.  Thus  dressed  a  girl  would  be  as  untrammeled  in  her 
motions  as  a  boy,  and  with  as  fair  a  chance  for  life,  liberty, 
and  the  pursuit  of  happiness  as  Miss  Alcott's  "Rose  in 
bloom." 

Such  girls  and  such  doctors  are  few  and  far  between,  for 
the  doctor  is  usually  called  in  to  repair  damages  after  they 
have  been  inflicted,  rather  than  to  prevent  them.  The  physi- 
cian's best  work  is  not  to  patch  up  dilapidated  humanity, 
but  to  anticipate  as  far  as  possible  such  tinkering  and 
repairing.  The  Chinese  pay  their  physicians  only  so  long  as 
they  keep  their  patients  well,  and  while  it  might  be  impos- 
sible to  successfully  adopt  their  custom  in  this  country,  its 
principle  is  sound,  and  is  the  one  on  which  a  physician  should 
be  employed.  According  to  Sir  Henry  Thompson,  more  than 
half  of  the  sickness  in  the  world  is  due  to  preventible  causes 
which  it  would  be  far  wiser  to  employ  some  one  to  antici- 
pate rather  than  to  cure  their  results.  The  best  physician  is 
not  one  with  some  'pathy  or  proprietary  salve,  but  the  one 
who  can  best  instruct  his  patients  in  regard  to  the  care  of 
their  souls'  houses,  whose  abuse  inevitably  brings  penal- 
ties that  are  far  more  our  own  making  than  of  divine 
interposition. 


The  Wheel  at  the  Cistern.  115 

For  instance,  a  principal  in  one  of  our  larger  young  ladies' 
high-schools  found  himself  greatly  perplexed  at  finding  his 
opening  hour  largely  taken  up  in  going  from  room  to  room 
and  looking  after  pupils  who  had  fainted  or  were  otherwise 
indisposed.     These  attacks,  at  first  so  mysterious,  were  soon 
found  to  be  due  to  over-fatigue,  both  social  and  mental,  and 
a  lack  of  a  proper  breakfast  before  school  hours.     No  amount 
of  prayer  or  physic  cured  such  cases  until  more  sleep,  ade- 
quate food,  and  fresh  air  removed  their  cause;  for  fainting 
is  not  a  direful  disease,  like  the  cholera,  but  is  simply  the 
blind  protest  of  a  brain   not    sufficiently  supplied  with  the 
proper  kind  of  blood.     Since  young  ladies  have  given  up 
living  exclusively  in-doors,  fainting,  says  a    recent  society 
paper,  has  gone  out  of  fashion;  and  it  is  a  custom  more  hon- 
ored in  the  breach  than  in  the  observance.     The  more  so 
because  usually  exactly  the  wrong  thing  is  done    for    one 
found   fainting.     The    trouble    is    an    insufficient  supply  of 
blood  to  the  brain,  due  to  a  missed  beat  of  the  heart,  either 
from  feebleness  or  some  mental  impression — as  bad  news,  the 
sight  of  fresh  blood,  or  even  a  mouse;  for  there  is  no  reason- 
able explanation  of  such  antipathies.     Boyle  is  said  to  have 
grown   faint  whenever    he    heard   the    splashing   of  water, 
Scaliger  at  the  sight  of  water-cresses,  and  Erasmus  notes  the 
case  of  a  clergyman  who  fainted  whenever  he  heard  a  cer- 
tain verse  in  Jeremiah  read.     But  whatever  the  mental  im- 
pression, its  direct  result  and  the  one  which  causes  the  faint- 
ness  is  the  failure  of  the  heart  to  send  sufficient  blood  to  the 
brain;  consequently  the  first  thing  to  be  done  is  to  remedy 
this  defect.     Blood,  like  every  other  fluid,  flows  most  easily 
down  hill,  and  the  common  sense  thing  to  be  done  is  to  lower 
the  head  of  the  one  fainting  below  that  of  the  body;  so,  when 
you  find  the  world  growing  black  before  you,  lay  yourself 
out  as  flat  as  you  can.     Smelling  salts,  cold  air,  loosening  the 
clothing  and  forty  particular  friends  are  all  good  enough  in 
ili.ii-  place,  except  the  last — who  would  do  better  to  stand 
aside  and  let  their  friend   have  sonic  fresh  air;  but  the  one 
great  thing  to  be  done   is  to  put  the  head  of  a  person  in  a 


lit)  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

faint  at  least  on  a  level  willi  their  heels.  Fainting  means 
that  the  supply  of  blood  in  the  brain  is  insufficient,  and  of 
course  the  iir.st  thing  to  be  done  is  to  put  the  person  in  such 
a  posture  that  blood  will  find  its  way  most  easily  back.  The 
thing  usually  done  is  to  lift  or  set  upright  the  victim,  while 
the  distraeted  friends  crowd  about  and  insist  upon  cutting 
off  what  little  air  would  otherwise  come  to  their  aid.  The 
recumbent  position,  a  draft  of  fresh  air,  and  a  little  water 
sprinkled  in  the  face  are  usually  all  that  is  required  in  such 
cases,  which  are  not  at  all  alarming  unless  they  occur  in  the 
course  of  protracted  illness. 

Under  such  circumstances  repeated  faintness  is  alarming, 
for  it  betokens  failing  ability  of  the  heart  longer  to  perform 
its  duties.  The  wonder  is  that  this  does  not  oftener  happen, 
for  the  heart  is  the  hardest  worked  organ  of  the  body;  ^lay 
and  night,  for  our  entire  life-time,  it  pumps  away  seventy  or 
more  times  a  minute.  To  be  sure  it  drives  but  six  ounces  of 
blood  with  each  impulse,  but  as  there  are  something  over  a 
hundred  thousand  of  these  impulses  in  the  twenty-four  hours 
it  follows  that  the  heart  lifts  over  twenty  tons  of  blood  a  day, 
and  may  perform  this  work  for  seventy  years  or  more,  with- 
out a  rest  of  longer  than  a  fraction  of  a  minute  at  any  one 
time.  About  one  quarter  of  the  time  required  for  each  beat  of 
the  heart  is  taken  for  rest ;  that  is,  for  say  each  second  its  first 
half  is  occupied  in  making  the  sound  lup,  the  next  quarter 
second  makes  the  sound  pup,  and  then  comes  a  quarter  of  a 
second  rest,  provided  the  heart  beats  but  sixty  times  a  minute. 
A  longer  rest  on  the  part  of  the  heart  than  a  quarter  of  a 
second  brings  a  feeling  of  faintness,  and  if  the  resting  con- 
tinues death  ensues  from  heart  failure,  or  syncope,  as  the 
doctors  call  it. 

Solomon  compares  the  heart  to  the  wheel  at  the  cistern,  or 
the  shadoof  used  in  Eastern  lands  to  lift  the  water  from  a 
spring  to  a  reservoir.  The  comparison  is  good  as  relates 
to  the  method,  but  poor  as  regards  the  instrument,  for  the 
shadooff  is  an  inefficient  pump  compared  to  the  double  hand- 
ful of  muscles  which  labor  for  us  more  incessantly  than  any 


The  Wheel  at  ttte  Cistern.  117 

engine  yet  invented.  Solomon's  comparison  is  the  more  re- 
markable from  the  fact  that  in  his  day  the  circulation  of  the 
blood  was  not  understood,  although  the  pulsation  of  the  ar- 
teries could  not  have  escaped  the  attention  of  the  ancient 
physicians.  And  yet  it  Avas  not  until  the  time  of  William 
Harvey  (1619)  that  work  done  by  the  wheel  at  the  cistern 
was  understood.  From  the  influence  which  the  emotions  have 
upon  the  circulation  of  the  heart  it  was  considered  by  the 
ancient  Jews  as  the  seat  of  the  passions  and  the  intellect, 
which  were  then  supposed  to  be  located  in  the  breast  and 
not  in  the  brain.  The  error  is  not  strange  when  we  remember 
that  excitement  of  any  kind  increases  the  heart's  action.  Even 
the  difference  betAveen  standing  and  sitting  makes  a  variation 
in  the  heart's  beat  sufficient  to  be  noted  by  many  of  the  life 
insurance  companies.  Exercise  of  any  kind  quickens  the 
heart's  action,  and  hence  benefits  the  whole  body  un- 
less carried  to  excess.  Boat-races,  walking-matches,  and 
foot-ball  contests  are  dangerous  when  they  call  for  violent 
work  by  the  heart ;  so  too  does  intense  excitement  of  any 
kind,  which  leads  eventually  to  enlargement  of  the  heart  and 
feeble  action.  A  majority  of  professional  athletes  finally 
die  either  from  this  cause  or  consumption,  strange  as  it  may 
appear,  although  there  is  a  good  reason  for  the  latter,  as  well 
as  the  hypertrophy  of  the  heart  so  often  found  in  such  cases. 
Heart  disease  is  frequently  reported  as  the  cause  of  sudden 
death,  which  is  popularly  believed  often  to  take  place  with- 
out warning.  Such  is  not  the  case.  Heart  disease  rarely, 
if  ever,  causes  death  without  premonition,  and  the  majority 
of  cases  of  unexpected  death,  supposed  to  be  due  to  heart 
disease,  are  found  to  have  other  causes. 

"A  truer  report  would  have  a  tendency  to  save  many 
lives.  It  is  through  a  report  of  'disease  of  the  heart'  that 
many  an  opium-eater  is  let  off  into  the  grave,  which  covers 
;ii  once  his  folly  and  his  crime  ;  the  brandy  drinker,  too, 
quietly  slides  round  the  corner  thus  and  is  heard  of  no 
more;    iii    short,    this    'report'    of    'disease   of   the    heart  '  is 

the   mantle  of  charily  which  the  politic  coroner  and    the 


118  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

sympathetic  physician  throw  around  the  graves  of  l  genteel 
people.' 

"  At  a  late  scientific  congress  at  Strasburg  it  was  reported 
that  of  sixty-six  persons  who  had  suddenly  died,  an  imme- 
diate and  faithful  post-mortem  showed  that  only  two  of  them 
had  any  heart  affection  whatever :  one  sudden  death  only  in 
thirty-three  from  disease  of  the  heart.  Nine  out  of  the 
sixty-six  died  of  apoplexy — one  out  of  every  seven — while 
forty-six — more  than  two  out  of  three — died  of  lung  affec- 
tions, half  of  them  of  '  congestion  of  the  lungs,'  that  is,  the 
lungs  were  so  full  of  blood  they  could  not  work  ;  there  was 
not  room  for  air  enough  to  get  in  to  support  life." 

Thus  wrote  Dr.  W.  W.  Hall,  some  years  ago,  and  increasing 
knowledge  confirms  his  statement.  It  is  furthermore  proven 
that  many  cases  of  supposed  heart  disease  are  really  those  of 
chronic  tobacco  poisoning,  and  cease  with  the  discontinuance 
of  the  weed.  Tobacco's  effects  are  chiefly  expended  upon 
the  nervous  system,  which  the  poisonous  alkaloid  of  tobacco 
(nicotine)  affects.  Tobacco  has  been  dropped  from  medical 
use  as  too  uncertain  and  dangerous  a  drug  to  be  used  with 
satisfaction,  but  half -grown  lads  persist  in  poisoning  them- 
selves with  it  until  at  last  the  body  tolerates  it  and  even  de- 
mands its  after-soothing  effects.  American  hurry  and  worry 
doubtless  have  done  much  to  beget  the  almost  universal 
use  of  tobacco  in  this  country,  but,  whatever  the  fancied  need, 
tobacco  cannot  be  used  without  paying  the  penalties.  These 
are  that  it  taints  the  breath,  over-stimulates  the  kidneys,  and 
saturates  the  skin  with  the  characteristic  odor  of  nicotine. 
It  also  disorders  digestion,  may  produce  cancer,  and  inevi- 
tably disorders  sooner  or  later  the  heart's  action.  This  is 
chiefly  shown  in  rapid,  irregular  palpitations,  short  breath, 
languor,  and,  according  to  Franzel,  sleeplessness.  In  one 
case  in  the  writer's  knowledge  this  sleeplessness  bordered 
closely  on  delirium  tremens,  although  the  person  did  not  use 
alcohol  in  any  form.  Such  results  are  slow  in  appearing,  the 
smoker  often  using  tobacco  for  years  without  any  supposed 
bad   effects    until    going    to    consult    his  physician  for  bus- 


The  Wheel  at  the  Cistern.  119 

pectecl  heart  trouble,  without  any  idea  that  the  use  of  tobacco 
has  had  any  thing  to  do  with  the  strange  feelings  and  sudden 
pains  about  the  heart  ;  he  discovers  their  cause  and  he  finds 
that  the  discontinuance  of  the  use  of  tobacco  brings  relief 
from  discomfort.  And  yet  the  habit  is  often  so  firmly 
implanted  that  the  cessation  of  pain  is  usually  the  signal  to 
begin  anew  the  use  of  a  drug  that  its  user  will  freely  admit 
he  knows  is  injuring  him.  The  fascination  of  tobacco,  I  pre- 
sume, is  never  fully  understood  by  one  who  has  never  been 
addicted  to  its  use,  but  as  strong  men  truly  declare  that 
a  breath  of  tobacco  smoke,  after  years  of  abstinence,  has 
the  power  to  force  them  to  walk  the  floor  all  night  in 
desperate  conflict  with  their  old  enemy,  it  can  scarcely 
be  less  irksome  to  be  in  bondage  to  tobacco  than  alcohol. 
Tobacco  does  not  drive  men  to  the  gallows,  or  peniten- 
tiary, nor  as  a  rule  make  moral  wrecks  of  them,  but  it 
does  put  its  devotee  under  a  needless  bondage,  and  whatever 
may  be  said  in  favor  of  its  use  by  the  overworked  professional 
or  laboring  man,  its  effects  upon  growing  youths  are  unequiv- 
ocably  bad.  Decaisne  found  that  in  boys  of  fifteen  it  pro- 
duced, almost  without  an  exception,  anaemia,  palpitation  of 
the  heart,  and  an  intermittent  pulse,  beside  stunting  the 
growth.  In  an  English  public  school  twenty-two  of  the 
thirty-eight  juvenile  smokers  examined  showed  similar  dis- 
turbance of  digestion  and  circulation.  So  clearly  has  this 
been  proven  that  in  France  the  minister  of  public  instruction, 
and  certainly  not  from  moral  reasons,  prohibits  the  use  of 
tobacco  in  all  the  government  schools,  and  the  same  is  true, 
if  the  writer  is  correctly  informed,  in  our  naval  training 
school  at  Annapolis,  where  tobacco  is  again  on  the  prohibited 
list,  after  the  experiment  having  been  tried  of  allowing  its  free 
use  Tn  short,  science  and  experience  unite  in  declaring,  first, 
that  the  use  of  tobacco  is  not  merely  an  expensive  and  un- 
desirable habit  for  the  young,  but  a  positive  injury,  for  no 
young  man  can  ever  reach  It  is  highest  physical  condition  if 
lie  uses  tobacco  before  reaching  maturity  (thirty-three  years) ; 
and    secondly,   that  cigarette-smoking    is    the   most    delete- 


120  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

rious  form  in  which  tobacco  is  used.  "  A  cigarette-smoking 
boy  will  not  make  a  Btrong  man.  He  will  have  impaired 
digestion,  small  and  poor  muscles,  irritable  temper,  and  a 
lack  of  capacity  for  sustained  effort  of  any  kind."  (L>ar- 
tholow.) 

From  a  whiff  of  cigarette  smoke  to  the  size  and  shape  of 
the  heart  requires  one  of  Mark  Twain's  "  natural  and  easy 
transitions  ;"  but  before  leaving  the  subject  of  the  heart  it 
would  be  well  to  describe  a  little  more  fully  its  shape  and 
location.  The  adult  heart  is  a  hollow,  muscular  organ  about 
the  size  of  a  man's  fist,  of  conical  shape,  located  between  the 
right  and  left  lungs,  its  apex  lying  about  an  inch  and  a  half 
from  the  surface  of  the  body. 

It  is  inclosed  in  a  fibrous  sac,  called  the  pericardium,  and 
lies  obliquely  in  the  chest,  and  so  placed  that  a  bullet  pene- 
trating the  breast-bone  on  a  level  with  the  nipple,  and  strik- 
ing the  vertebra?  at  right  angles  with  the  axis  of  the  body, 
would  pass  through  three  cavities  of  the  heart;  namely,  both 
right  and  left  ventricles  and  the  left  auricle. 

The  heart's  base,  or  broad  end,  is  directed  upward  and 
backward  toward  the  right,  and  corresponds  to  the  interval 
between  the  fifth  and  eighth  dorsal  vertebras.  Its  apex,  or 
conical  end,  is  directed  forward  and  to  the  left,  lying  in  the 
interspace  between  the  fifth  and  sixth  ribs,  an  inch  to  the 
inner  side  of  the  nipple,  where  the  heart's  impulse  can  usually 
be  distinctly  seen  on  watching  the  bared  breast.  The  lungs 
cover  the  greatest  part  of  the  heart,  especially  during  inspi- 
ration, when  the  edges  of  the  lungs  nearly  meet  behind  the 
breast-bone,  behind  the  lower  two  thirds  of  which  the 
heart  mainly  lies.  A  thin  layer  of  lung  tissue  alwaj^s 
rovers  the  roots  of  the  large  vessels,  but  a  large  part 
of  the  heart's  surface  is  exposed  during  expiration,  when 
the  edges  of  the  lungs  recede  from  each  other.  The 
anterior  surface  of  the  heart  is  rounded  and  directed 
upward  and  forward,  and  is  composed  mainly  of  the 
right  ventricle.  The  posterior  surface  of  the  heart  is 
slightly  flattened,  and  rests  upon  the  diaphragm;  hence  the 


The  Wheel  at  the  Cistern. 


121 


heart's  distress  when  the   diaphragm  is   pushed  upward  by- 
gases  within  the  stomach. 

The  heart  in  the  adult  measures  five  inches  in  length, 
three  inches  and  a  half  in  breadth  in  the  broad  part,  and  two 
inches  and  a  half  in  thickness.  The  average  weight  in  the 
male  varies  from  ten  to  twelve  ounces  ;  in  the  female  from 
eight  to  ten  ;  its  proportion  to  the  entire  weight  of  the  body- 
being  as  1  to  169  in  males  ;  1  to  149  in  females.  The  heart 
continues  increasing  in  weight,  and  also  in  length,  breadth, 
and  thickness,  up  to  an  advanced  period  of  life.  This  increase 
is  more  marked  in  "men  than  in  women. 

The  heart  is  divided  by 
a  longitudinal,  muscular 
septum,  or  division,  into 
two  lateral  halves,  which 
are  known  from  their  po- 
sition as  the  right  and  left 
heart,  and  each  of  these  is 
again  subdivided  by  a 
transverse  wall  into  two 
cavities,  known  as  right 
and  left  auricles  and  ven- 
tricles, respectively  ;  the 
upper  cavities  on  each  side 
being  called  auricles,  from 
their  fancied  resemblance 
in  shape  to  an  ear.  The  lower  cavities  are  known  as  the  right 
and  left  ventricles,  according  to  their  position.  The  right  is 
the  venous  side  of  the  heart,  receiving  into  its  auricle  the 
dark  or  venous  blood  of  the  body  through  the  veme  cava3 
which  empty  into  it.  The  course  of  the  blood  from  this 
point  is  as  follows :  This  venous  blood  passes  downward 
through  the  tricuspid  valve  (e,f)  from  the  right  auricle  into 
the  right  ventricle,  whence  it  is  propelled  by  the  contraction 
of  the  heart  into  (d)  the  pulmonary  artery,  its  return  into 
the  auricle  being  prevented  by  means  of  the  tricuspid  valve 
just  mentioned  ;  and  its  regurgitation  from  the  pulmonary 
6 


Right  Side  of  the  Heart  laid  Open. 


122  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

artery  back  into  the  ventricle  is  similarly  prevented  by  semi- 
lunar valves  (m)  placed  at  the  cardiac  orifice  of  the  artery. 
By  the  pulmonary  artery  the  blood,  still  blue  and  venous, 
reaches  the  lungs,  where  it  loses  its  dark  color  by  the  pro- 
cesses to  be  described,  and  now  becomes  bright  red.  Having 
been  thus  purified,  it  returns  to  the  heart  from  the  lungs 
through  the  pulmonary  veins,  which,  however,  convey  arte- 
rial blood,  and  empties  into  the  left  auricle,  well  shown  in 
Plate  II. 

These  veins,  unlike  the  majority  of  the  vessels  which  empty 
into  the  heart,  have  no  valves  at  their  openings  into  the  left 
auricle,  so  that  there  is  a  slight  reflux  of  blood  toward  the 
lungs,  but  the  greater  part  of  the  blood  which  passes  into 
the  left  auricle  is  forced  by  the  contraction  of  the  heart 
through  the  mitral  valve  (m.  v.  Plate  II),  which  separates  the 
left  auricle  from  the  left  ventricle.  From  thence  it  passes 
through  the  semi-lunar  valves,  which  are  designed  to  prevent 
the  regurgitation  of  blood  back  into  the  heart,  into  the  aorta, 
and  carried  the  round  of  the  circulation,  until  the  blood 
reaches  the  capillaries,  hereafter  to  be  described,  from  which 
it  at  last  reaches  the  veins,  and  ultimately  the  venae  cavse,  or 
great  veins  which  empty  into  the  right  side  of  the  heart. 
The  course  of  the  blood  through  the  heart  has  already  been 
described,  and  if  the  round  of  the  circulation  seems  some- 
what intricate,  by  reference  to  Plate  II  the  matter  may  be 
greatly  simplified  and  fixed  permanently  in  the  mind  of  the 
reader,  as  the  arrows  given  in  the  plate  indicate  the  direction 
of  the  blood  currents,  and  their  color  shows  whether  they 
are  those  of  arterial  or  venous  blood. 

The  heart  sounds  already  alluded  to,  which  can  readily  be 
heard  by  applying  the  ear  to  the  bared  chest,  just  above  the 
location  of  the  apex  beat,  are  due  to  the  rhythmic  contrac- 
tions of  the  heart  forcing  the  blood  through  its  partitions 
and  out  into  the  general  circulation.  If  you  listen  attentively 
you  may  be  able  to  distinguish,  first,  a  longish,  dull  sound 
which  has  been  likened  to  lup,  then  a  shorter — about  one 
half  the  duration  of  the  first — sound,  called  tup,  and  then  a 


The  Wheel  at  the  Cistern.  123 

pause  for  the  same  length  of  time  as  the  second  sound ;  then 
comes  the  first  sound  again,  and  so  on,  the  first  sound  occu- 
pying one  half  the  time  of  a  heart-beat,  and  the  second  and 
the  pause  the  other  two  quarters.  The  first,  or  lup,  sound 
is  probably  produced  by  several  causes,  the  second  is  due  to 
the  flapping  back  of  the  semi-lunar  valves  {I.  v.)  at  the  aortic 
opening  (see  Plate  II).  Sometimes  these  and  the  other  valves 
in  the  heart  become  diseased,  especially  after  or  during 
rheumatism,  and  their  owner  ever  after  suffers  from  a  leaky 
blood-pump,  which  will  not  allow  him  to  run  or  take  violent 
exercise  for  the  remainder  of  his  life.  And  yet,  with  care, 
many  of  these  leaky  hearts  perform  their  duty  for  a  surpris- 
ingly long  time,  and,  contrary  to  general  belief,  rarely  sen- 
tence their  owners  to  sudden  death.  In  fact,  with  any  thing 
like  reasonable  care  the  heart  is  more  tolerant  of  protracted 
work  than  any  other  organ  of  the  body,  and  so  long  as  a 
regular  full  pulse  can  be  felt  at  the  wrist  th*e  less  thought 
given  the  heart  the  better. 

The  pulse,  or  impulse  given  to  the  fingers  laid  over  an 
artery,  is  due  to  dilatation  of  its  elastic  walls  each  time  a 
fresh  quantity  of  blood  is  forced  into  it.  Hence  it  closely 
follows  each  contraction  of  the  left  ventricle,  and  counting 
the  pulse  gives  us  the  number  of  these  contractions  during 
the  minute.  The  jets  of  blood  from  a  freshly  cut  artery 
give  us  the  same  information ;  but  such  knowledge  is  dearly 
purchased,  for  if  long  persisted  in  it  brings  death  from  loss 
of  blood.  As  long  as  the  blood  flowing  from  a  wound  is 
dark-colored,  even  though  it  comes  freely,  it  need  cause  no 
particular  alarm,  for  pressure  over  the  wound  will  usually 
stanch  the  flow;  but  crimson  spurting  blood  must  be  stopped 
at  once  by  the  surgeon,  and  until  he  comes  a  bandage  should 
be  placed  around  the  limb  between  it  and  the  heart,  and 
twisted  as  tightly  as  possible  by  thrusting  a  stout  fork  or 
strong  stick  beneath  the  bandage,  and  thus  twisting  the 
bandage  until  sufficient  pressure  is  obtained  to  check  the 
flow  of"  blood.  Pressure  is  the  only  thing  that  can  be  relied 
upon  to  check  arterial  hemorrhage,  but,  intelligently  used,  it 


124  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

will  and  has  saved  many  a  life  until  professional  aid  could  be 
obtained. 

Having  now  considered  the  blood  and  the  heart,  there  re- 
mains but  little  in  the  way  of  description  of  the  blood-vessels 
to  complete  the  mechanism  of  the  circulation.  These  blood- 
vessels are  of  two  varieties;  namely,  arteries  and  veins.  The 
former  were  originally  called  arteries,  from  the  idea  enter- 
tained by  the  ancients  that  these  vessels  contained  only  air, 
which  mistake  arose  from  the  fact  that  the  arteries  are  usu- 
ally found  empty  after  death.  Galen  was  the  first  to  refute 
this  opinion,  for  he  was  able  to  prove  that  the  arteries  con- 
tain blood  in  the  living  body.  Except  in  the  case  of  the 
pulmonary  artery,  they  contain  bright  red,  or  well  aerated 
blood.  The  pulmonary  artery,  as  may  be  remembered,  al- 
though it  is  called  an  artery,  conveys  venous  blood  from  the 
heart  to  the  lungs,  whence  it  is  returned  by  the  pulmonary 
veins  to  the  6ther  side  of  the  heart,  constituting  what  is 
sometimes  known  as  the  lesser  or  pulmonary  circulation, 
whose  arteries  and  veins  contain  exactly  the  reverse  of  the 
blood  found  elsewhere  in  the  body;  that  is,  the  pulmonary 
veins  contain  arterial  blood,  and  the  pulmonary  artery 
venous  blood. 

The  arteries  are  round,  fibrous  tubes,  dense  in  structure, 
quite  strong,  and  elastic  enough  when  cut  to  preserve  their 
cylindrical  form.  The  arteries  have  three  coats  or  layers, 
and  are  also  included  in  a  sheath,  which  holds  in  addition 
generally  a  vein  and  nerve.  Arteries  give  off  branches 
which  freely  communicate  one  with  another  by  means  of 
larger  and  smaller  branches.  These  anastomoses,  as  they  are 
called,  are  found  wherever  great  freedom  in  the  circulation 
is  required,  as  at  the  base  of  the  brain  and  about  the  joints. 
The  arteries  and  their  branches  divide  and  subdivide,  until  in 
its  general  contour  the  arterial  circulation  resembles  an  invert- 
ed tree  whose  common  trunk  would  be  represented  by  the  aorta 
and  its  twigs  by  the  capillaries,  which  are  found  in  nearly  every 
part  of  the  body  except  in  the  nails,  hairs,  cartilages,  and 
cornea.     The  capillary  blood-vessels  are  so  named  because 


The   Wheel  at  the  Cistern. 


125 


in  size  they  are  about  that  of  a  hair  or  less  (one  fifteen 
hundredth  to  one  two-thousandth  of  an  inch),  sometimes  dis 
posed  in  loops,  sometimes  in  meshes,  in  which 
the  blood  almost  imperceptibly  passes  from  the 
arterial  to  the  venous  side  of  the  circulation. 
Just  how  this  change  is  made  is  somewhat  in 
dispute,  but  the  following  facts  seem  well  at- 
tested. The  larger  arteries,  as  has  already 
been  said,  possess  three  coats,  and,  as  the  arte- 
ries grow  smaller,  these  coats  imperceptibly 
disappear,  until  the  capillaries  have  only  the 
inner  (endothelium)  left,  which,  as  may  be 
seen  from  the  cut,  is  made  up  of  endothelial 
plates,  or  germinal  matter  set 
like  tiles  in  a  cement  substance. 
These  arterial  twigs  communicate 
with  the  venous  capillaries  either 
directly  or  by  means  of  intervas- 
cular  spaces,  into  whiih  the  cor- 
puscles pass  by  means  of  the  minute 


Endothelial 
plates. 


Minute  Micro- 
scopic Artery. 
e,  Endotheli- 
um ;  i,  intima ; 
w, muscular  me- 
dia, composed  of 
a  single  layer  of 


openings  between  the  endothelial  circular iy- a r- 
plates.  This  always  takes  place  in  inflamma-  striped mUscuiar 
tion,  when  these  capillaries  become  abnormally  ceils ,  a,  adven- 
distended,  and  the  openings  between  the  plates 
so  much  enlarged  that  the  white  corpuscles  (pus)  readily  pass 
through  them.  The  veins  are  formed  by  the  union  of  the 
venous  capillaries,  which  are  found  in  nearly  every  tissue  of 
the  body.  These  venous  twigs  unite  to  form  venous  trunks, 
which  increase  in  size  as  they  pass  toward  the  heart  by 
union  with  other  veins  on  the  way.  In  general,  the  veins  are 
larger  and  more  numerous  than  the  arteries,  so  that  the  en- 
tire capacity  of  the  venous  system  is  much  greater  than  that 
of  the  arterial.  From  the  combined  capacity  of  the  smaller 
venous  branches  being  greater  than  the  main  trunks,  it  re- 
sults that  the  venous  system  represents  a  cone,  the  summit 
of  which  corresponds  to  the  heart,  its  base  to  the  circumfer- 
ence of  the  body.     In  form  the  veins  are  not  perfectly  cylin- 


126  Physiology  axd  Hygiene. 

drical  like  the  arteries,  their  walls  being  collapsed  when 
empty,  and  the  uniformity  of  their  surface  being  interrupted 
at  intervals  by  slight  contractions,  which  indicate  the  posi- 
tion of  the  valves  placed  within  them  to  prevent  the  back- 
ward flow  of  the  blood.  These  valves  are  formed  by  a  re- 
duplication of  the  inner  and  a  part  of  the  middle  coat  of 
the  vein,  and  consist,  therefore,  of  connective  tissue  and 
elastic  fibers,  covered  on  both  surfaces  by  endothelium.  Their 
form  is  semilunar.  They  are  attached  by  their  convex  edge 
to  the  walls  of  the  vein ;  their  concave  margin  is  free,  di- 
rectly in  the  course  of  the  venous  current,  and  lies  in  close 
apposition  with  the  wall  of  the  vein  so  long  as  the  current 
of  blood  takes  its  natural  course ;  if,  however,  any  regurgi- 
tation takes  place,  the  valves  become  distended,  their  op- 
posed edges  are  brought  into  contact,  and  the  current  of 
blood  is  intercepted.  Most  commonly  two  such  valves  are 
found  placed  opposite  one  another,  especially  in  the  smaller 
veins,  and  in  the  larger  venous  trunks  at  the  point  where 
they  are  joined  by  small  branches. 

Just  above  the  valve  the  wall  of  the  vein  expands  into  a 
pouch,  whrch  gives  a  vein  its  knotted  appearance  when  dis- 
tended with  blood.  These  pouches  are  especially  numerous 
in  the  veins  of  the  legs,  which  are  thus  provided  to  assist  the 
blood  current,  against  gravity,  toward  the  heart,  where  all  the 
veins  at  last  empty.  Increasing  age  is  apt  to  produce  en- 
largement of  these  pouches  (varicose  veins),  which  become 
a  serious  impediment  to  walking,  but  which  may  be  relieved 
by  snug  bandaging.  A  more  serious  accident  is  the  forma- 
tion of  a  fibrinous  clot  in  a  blood-vesssel  or  the  fatty  degen- 
eration of  their  walls.  Alcohol  is  a  frequent  cause  of  this, 
and  such  vessels  are  prone  to  rupture.  This  accident  in  the 
brain  is  apoplexy. 

There  are  two  hundred  and  seventy  arteries,  and  as  many 
or  more  veins,  all  of  which  are  of  interest  to  the  anatomist 
and  surgeon;  but  instead  of  attempting  a  description  of  the 
more  important  of  these,  we  give  a  cut  illustrating  the  rela- 
tion of  the  aorta,  or  great  artery  of  the  body,  to  the  other 


The  Wheel  at  the  Cistern. 


127 


large  vessels  of  the  trunk  of  the  body,  which  for  further 
comparison  should  be  studied  in  connection  with  Plate  II. 


Diagram  op  ttie  Large  Vessels  of  the  Heart  and  Lungs  (from  Wilson). 


1.  .Ascending  aorta. 

2.  Transverse  portion  of  the  arch. 

3.  Thoracic  or  descending  aorta. 

4.  Arterla  innominata. 

5.  Right  common  carotid. 

6.  External  and  internal  carotids. 

7.  Right  subclavian  artery. 

8.  Axillary  artery. 

9.  Brachial  artery. 

10.  Right  pneumosastrlc  nerve. 

11.  Left  common  carotid. 

12.  Left  subclavian  artery. 


13.  Pulmonary  artery. 

14.  Left  pulmonary  artery. 

15.  Right  pulmonary  artery. 

16.  Trachea. 

17.  Right  bronchus. 

18.  Left  bronchus. 

19.  19.  Pulmonary  veins. 

20.  Bronchial  arteries. 

21.  21.  Intercostal  arteries;  the  branches 
from  the  front  of  the  aorta  above  and 
below  the  number  3  are  pericardiac 
and  esophageal. 


• 


Physiology  and  Hygiene. 


CHAPTER  V. 

SEWERAGE  AND  VENTILATION. 

In  the  preceding  chapter  we  have  briefly  considered  the 
composition  of  the  blood  and  the  mechanism  of  its  circula- 
tion. This  naturally  brings  us  to  the  question,  Why  is  the 
blood  thus  carried  its  ceaseless  round  ?  Because  if  delayed 
at  any  one  point  the  blood  there  stagnates,  grows  blue,  dis- 
tends the  tissues,  and  finally,  by  an  escape  of  its  corpuscles, 
produces  death  of  the  part.  Such  an  accident  is  called  in  its 
earlier  stages  congestion,  later  it  is  known  as  mortification. 
Congestion  happens  whenever  the  nerves  which  preside  over 
the  circulation  of  any  organ  fail  to  do  their  duty;  for  each 
tiny  arterial  twig  has  its  own  nerve  connections  which  regu- 
late the  quantity  of  blood  contained  by  contracting  or  dilat- 
ing the  vessel  as  required.  The  pallor  of  fainting  means  that 
there  has  been  a  sudden  contraction  of  the  little  vessels  upon 
the  surface  of  the  body,  driving  the  blood  to  the  internal  or- 
gans. Blushing  denotes  exactly  the  contrary,  or  that  the 
vessels  are  widely  dilated,  from  shame  or  other  causes,  and  no 
longer  able  to  contract.  Congestion  is  a  protracted  blushing, 
that  is,  a  continued  dilation  of  the  capillary  blood-vessels 
from  any  cause,  and  serious  in  proportion  to  its  persistence. 
Congestion  of  the  lungs  is  a  more  frequent  cause,  of  death 
than  heart  disease,  while  transient  congestion  is  a  matter  of 
every-day  occurrence  and  of  little  importance,  provided  the 
equilibrium  of  circulation  is  soon  restored.  A  hot  fire,  a  cold 
walk,  wet  feet,  all  produce  localized  congestion,  but  of  a  kind 
that  is  quickly  relieved  if  one  is  in  health ;  but  if,  as  the  doctors 
say,  the  system  fails  to  react,  a  pair  of  thin  shoes  or  a  cold 
walk  may  prove  the  cause  of  untimely  death.  The  late  Dr. 
Durbin's  rule  of  never  allowing  himself  to  become  chilly  is 


Sewerage  and  Ventilation.  129 


v1 


■v 


an  excellent  one,  for  one  can  never  be  sure  that  he  is  in  con 
dition  to  react  after  even  a  slight  chilliness.  Thin  slippers 
may  look  very  beautiful  upon  the  tiny  feet  which  peep  in 
and  out  like  mice  beneath  the  petticoat,  or  the  excursion 
with  bare  feet  from  the  warm  bed  to  the  cold  floor  may  be  of 
but  a  moment's  duration;  but  that  moment  may  suffice  to 
drive  the  blood  from  the  surface  of  the  body  to  your  lasting 
injury.  Chilliness  is  always  a  sign  that  something  is  going 
wrong  within  the  house  in  which  we  live  ;  for  a  chill  is  nat- 
ure's automatic  alarm,  by  which  the  sympathetic  nervous  sys- 
tem gives  warning  that  the  tiny  blood-vessels  over  which 
they  watch  are  being  imposed  upon.  If  you  are  wise  you 
heed  the  warning,  and  at  almost  any  personal  inconvenience 
by  means  of  hot  drinks  and  baths  bring  about  a  reaction.  If 
this  is  done  promptly,  no  harm  results;  but  if  the  blood-ves- 
sels have  been  too  long  contracted,  instead  of  returning  to 
their  former  condition  they  expand  to  an  undue  amount  and 
now  contain  twice  as  much  blood  as  they  ought.  In  other 
words,  you  find  your  nose  is  all  stopped  up  after  catching 
cold,  because  its  blood-vessels  have  crowded  into  them  twice 
or  thrice  as  much  blood  as  they  can  conveniently  hold;  for 
one  of  the  spots  most  liable  to  become  chilled  is  the  sensitive 
membrane  lining  the  nose.  The  swelling  renders  it  almost 
impossible  to  breathe  through  the  nostrils,  and  if  the  conges- 
tion passes  downward  there  is  hoarseness  as  well.  If,  on  the 
other  hand,  the  cold  is  confined  to  the  head,  the  swelling 
passes  up  into  the  bone  cavities  communicating  with  the 
nose  and  lined  with  the  same  mucous  membrane,  and  there 
is  headache,  and  we  feel  generally  too  mean  to  live,  until 
here,  as  elsewhere,  nature  does  the  best  thing  that  she  can 
under  the  circumstances.  And  what  is  that?  Why, 
relieve  the  swollen  blood-vessels  as  promptly  as  possible 
by  allowing  the  excess  of  fluid  to  transude  through  their 
walls. 

Hence  we  often  find  the  sneezing  and  irritation  in  the  nose, 
of  the  first  few  hours  of  a    hard  cold,  disappear  as  soon  as 

there  is  an  active  demand  for  handkerchiefs.     Now  if  we  have 
6* 


130  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

sense  enough  to  give  nature  sufficient  time  to  thoroughly  repair 
the  errors  we  have  committed,  we  are  none  the  worse  for  the 
experience,  which  otherwise  might  have  been  pneumonia  or 
something  more  serious,  but  in  this  country  we  are  generally 
too  much  in  a  hurry  to  get  thoroughly  well.  Some  very  im- 
portant sewing  society  engagement,  or  call  to  save  the  coun- 
try from  impending  danger  by  the  aid  of  our  invaluable 
advice,  tempts  us  out,  and  we  repeat  the  congestion  before 
it  is  thoroughly  well.  The  natural  result  is  that  we  find 
ourselves  at  last  afflicted  with  catarrh,  or  a  chronic  discharge 
from  some  one  of  the  air  passages — for  nature  after  a  while 
gets  tired  of  her  repeated  efforts  at  repair,  and  at  last 
abandons  us  to  our  own  devices  and  those  of  the  physicians. 
These  at  best  are  a  poor  substitute  for  nature's  original 
methods,  as  we  find  at  last,  to  our  regret,  when  a  cold  is  no 
longer  a  trivial  matter.  Curiously  enough,  cold  has,  ordi- 
narily, very  little,  if  any  thing,  to  do  with  catching  cold. 
Indeed,  some  think  that  the  very  best  way  to  cure  a  cold  is  to 
breathe  as  much  cold  air  as  possible,  and  the  colder  the  better; 
but  there  are  colds  and  colds,  and  while  some  are,  beyond 
dispute,  contracted  by  sitting  in  a  cold  draft,  there  are 
other  colds,  and  these  are  the  more  frequent  ones,  which  are 
due  to  impure  air  and  a  generally  clogged  up  system.  The 
bad  air  produced  by  the  modern  hot-air  furnace  is  a  prolific 
source  of  winter  colds,  as  are  also  poorly  ventilated  churches, 
theaters,  and  other  places  of  public  resort,  especially  if  to 
the  bad  air  be  added  improper  diet.  Any  kind  of  food,  of 
which  more  is  taken  than  can  be  easily  disposed  of  in  the 
body,  begets  a  susceptibility  to  colds  which  needs  only  some 
slight  cause  to  fan  it  into  an  active  congestion.  So  true  is 
this  that  if  you  find  an  overfed  child  and  house  him  in 
furnace-heated  apartments  all  winter,  no  amount  of  care 
will  prevent  his  having  frequent  colds,  whereas  if  the  same 
child  be  properly  bathed,  housed,  and  fed  he  will  in  the  great 
majority  of  cases  escape  this  affliction.  At  all  events,  what- 
ever may  be  the  rationale  of  a  cold,  the  fact  remains  that  the 
very  best  treatment  yet  devised  for  an  incipient  cold  is  star- 


Sewerage  and  Ventilation.  131 

vation.  "Feed  a  cold  and  starve  a  fever"  has  made  lots  of 
mischief,  for  whatever  may  be  said  of  the  treatment  proposed 
for  fever  it  certainly  is  most  excellent  for  colds.  The  trouble 
is  to  induce  one's  friends,  or  even  one's  self,  to  carry  out  the 
prescription.  You  are  a  little  feverish,  achy,  with  a  bad 
taste  in  your  mouth,  and  generally  feeling  worse  than  an 
organ-grinder's  monkey,  when  a  meal  is  announced,  and  from 
force  of  habit,  or  want  of  something  better  to  do,  you  sit 
down  and  force  yourself  to  eat,  although  you  know  you  do 
not  need  it.  For  a  while,  eating  distracts  your  attention  and 
calls  it  away  from  yourself,  but  shortly  after  the  meal  the 
cold  grows  worse  than  ever.  In  other  words,  the  body  while 
suffering  from  a  cold  very  imperfectly  attends  to  digestion 
and  elimination,  and  any  thing  that  increases  its  work  in  that 
direction  increases  our  discomfort.  The  sensible  thing  to  do 
when  a  cold  is  coming  on  is  to  stop  eating  entirely,  and  for 
a  day  or  two  to  live  on  hot  beef-tea  and  other  liquids.  Many 
a  cold  treated  in  this  way  yields  most  gratifyingly  in  a  few 
hours.  Indeed,  if  the  dear  people  would  but  learn  to  keep 
their  feet  dry,  their  heads-  cool,  and  their  bodies  properly 
protected,  a  large  share  of  the  doctor's  work  would  be  sadly 
cut  into.  But  the  majority  will  not.  It  is  too  much  trouble; 
it  takes  too  much  time  to  put  on  wraps.  We  are  too  indo- 
lent to  carry  an  overcoat  for  emergencies.  We  are  loth  to 
deny  ourselves  the  pleasure  of  eating,  so  we  drag  out  a  week 
of  wretchedness,  which  might  be  cut  short  by  a  day  or  two 
of  abstinence,  or  just  as  long  as  feverishness  persists  ;  for  a 
cold  is  always  attended  with  fever.  There  may  be  a  feeling 
of  chilliness,  but  a  thermometer  placed  in  the  mouth  will 
register  one  or  two  degrees  higher  than  in  health.  This 
fever  is  due  to  the  disturbance  of  the  capillary  circulation 
already  described,  associated  with  inflammatory  ehanges  in 
the  germinal  matter  of  the  skin  and  mucous  membrane, 
which  fb  only  a  turning  of  the  skin  inward  to  line  the 
cavities  of  the  body,  for  mucous  membrane  is  the  same 
three-ply  tapestry  found  on  the  surface  of  the  body. 

The  lower  layer  of  mucous  membrane  is  the  same  corium 


132  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

that  has  already  been  described  in  speaking  of  the  skin.  It 
lias  similar  fibrous  tissue,  vessels,  and  nerves,  over  which  lies 
a  thin  transparent  basement  membrane,  and  on  top  of  this  lie 
epithelial  scales  or  cells.  Epithelium  and  endothelium  are 
the  poorly  selected  Greek  names  given  to  these  wondrous 
bits  of  germinal  matter  with  which  the  body  is  lined  inside 
and  out.  The  scales  of  the  mouth  are  well  named,  for  a 
scraping  with  a  penknife  from  the  inside  of  the  lips  shows 
beneath  the  microscope  a  multitude  of  flat  scales  not  unlike 
those  that  may  be  found  upon  a  fish.  But  this  is  not  their 
only  form,  for  elsewhere  in  the  body  they  have  the  shape  of 
columns,  waving  tufts,  tiny  spindles,  goblets,  chalices,  and 
polygonal  plates,  each  one  placed  where  it  can  best  perform 
its  special  work. 

The  essential  difference  between  the  epithelium  on  the 
surface  of  the  body  and  that  within  its  cavities  is  that  the 
former  is  protected  by  a  layer  of  dried  scales,  and  the  latter  is 
without  these,  being  bathed  constantly  instead  with  a  bland 
fluid.  The  rosy,  glistening  mucous  membrane  of  the  lips  is 
exactly  the  same  as  the  skin  minus  nature's  coat  of  white- 
wash, for  a  blister  that  has  just  been  drawn  has  about  the 
same  appearance  as  the  lips.  If,  then,  mucous  membrane  is 
so  nearly  like  blistered  skin,  why  don't  we  feel  all  raw  in- 
side ?  We  should  if  it  were  not  for  a  beneficent  arrange- 
ment by  which  this  membrane  is  kept  constantly  bathed  in 
a  bland  fluid  (mucus).  Holding  a  blistered  finger  in  milk 
will  take  away  the  smarting  quicker  than  almost  any  thing 
else ;  so  there  are  myriads  of  little  sacs  or  mucous  glands 
scattered  all  over  the  mucous  membrane  whose  duty  it  is  to 
keep  it  moistened  with  a  thin,  watery  fluid,  and  at  the  same 
time  wash  it  clean  from  refuse;  for  it  must  be  remembered 
that  mucous  membrane  is  as  constantly  growing  as  the  skin, 
and  needs  to  be  kept  clean  as  well.  Do  you  remember  those 
days  of  protracted  fever  when  your  mouth  was  asfcdry  as  a 
chip  and  tasted  like  old  leather  and  copperas  ?  That  simply 
meant  that  the  mucus  was  not  sufficient  to  wash  away  the 
growing  epithelial  scales,  which   were  left  to  dry   and  rot 


Sewerage  and  Ventilation.  133 

there;  and  no  wonder  your  mouth  tasted  badly.  But  that 
is  not  all ;  there  is  another  set  of  glands  pouring  fluid  into 
the  mouth,  and  at  such  a  time  these  are  tainted  as  well- 
These  are  the  salivary  glands,  already  spoken  of  under  Di- 
gestion. Their  deficient  and  tainted  secretion  makes  the 
mouth  dry,  and  awakens  a  desire  for  lemonade  or  other 
acid.  Refraining  from  fluid  may  help  to  cut  short  the  in- 
flammatory trouble,  but  it  is  done  at  a  cost  of  personal 
inconvenience  few  feel  willing  to  submit  to.  Moreover,  as 
recovery  in  these  cases  results  from  the  removal,  from  the 
blood  and  fluids  of  the  body,  of  the  poisonous  substances 
whose  accumulation  there  produces  the  fever  and  discom- 
fort, this  process  is  assisted  by  the  free  use  of  fluids.  These 
stimulate  the  kidneys,  skin,  and  mucous  glands  to  increased 
action,  and,  as  we  have  all  learned,  when  the  latter  begin 
to  act  freely  the  fever  of  a  cold  disappears.  The  bad  taste 
in  the  mouth  may  linger  for  a  few  days,  with  loss  of  appetite 
— which  means  clearly  that  it  is  better  to  refrain  from  eat- 
ing until  the  appetite  returns  and  the  tongue  cleans.  Starva- 
tion usually  brings  both  promptly  to  time,  though  in  the 
case  of  the  tongue  the  process  may  be  hastened  by  cleaning 
off  its  refuse  with  the  edge  of  a  silver  fruit-knife  and  scrub- 
bing up  after  with  a  little  saleratus  water.  There  is  no  bet- 
ter reason  for  leaving  a  dirty  tongue  in  one's  mouth  than  for 
neglecting  to  clean  the  teeth.  It  was  once  the  fashion  for 
every  lady  to  keep  on  her  table  a  tiny  silver  hoe  with  which 
to  clean  her  tongue  after  dining,  not  wisely  but  too  well,  the 
previous  evening.  It  was  not  an  irrational  practice,  in  fact 
vastly  wiser  than  the  modern  plan  of  taking  stomach  or  liver 
bitters  when,  according  to  the  advertising  almanac,  you  an- 
swer in  the  affirmative  its  staple  questions  of,  "  Are  you  dull 
and  heavy  in  the  morning?  Have  you  a  bad  taste  in  the 
mouth?     Is  your  appetite  poor?" 

These  symptoms  need  attention  ;  they  mean  that  your 
body  is  growing  dirty,  and  possibly  needs  a  spring  house- 
cleaning,  but  that  is  a  very  different  thing  from  putting  its 
servants  to  sleep  with  alcohol,  so  that  they  will  not  know 


134  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

whether  the  house  is  dirty  or  not.  Taking  stomach  or 
spring  bitters  means  exactly  this.  As  I  write  there  lies  be- 
fore me  the  official  analysis  by  the  State  chemist  of  Rhode 
Island  of  all  such  bitters  on  sale  in  that  State,  and  there  is 
not  one  which  does  not  contain  alcohol,  the  most  popular 
(Hostetter's  and  Drake's)  being  stronger  than  brandy.  A 
wine-glass  of  brandy  twice  or  three  times  a  day  makes  the 
drinker  feel  comfortable  while  its  effect  lasts,  but  that  gone 
there  is  need  of  another ;  and  such  is  exactly  the  effect  of 
these  much-advertised  bitters,  which  are  all  the  more  dan- 
gerous because  they  are  taken  by  many  who  would  utterly 
refuse  to  take  liquor,  and  yet  ignorantly  take  daily  poor 
whisky  enough  to  keep  them  just  within  its  influence.  The 
effect  of  alcohol  upon  germinal  matter  has  already  been 
noted  in  Chapter  I.  It  is  not  necessary  here  to  further  dis- 
cuss the  subject,  except  to  say  that  after  liquors  have  done 
their  work  within  the  body  their  alcohol  is  excreted  through 
the  lungs  and  kidneys.  In  both  of  these  places  alcohol 
works  mischief.  Its  passage  through  the  delicate  tubes  of 
the  kidneys,  hereafter  to  be  described,  damages  their  epithe- 
lium often  irreparably,  and  the  alcohol  escaping  through  the 
lungs  does  no  less  harm,  for,  aside  from  the  foul  odor  it 
gives  to  the  breath,  it  so  irritates  the  air  passages  that 
"  whisky  drinker's  bronchitis  "  is  a  well  recognized  form  of 
disease. 

Of  minor  evils  a  bad  breath  is  one  of  the  most  annoying 
of  troubles.  Aside  from  that  due  to  whisky,  onions,  and  to- 
bacco, it  betokens  dirt  somewhere.  Dirt  was  happily  defined 
by  Palmerston  as  "  matter  in  the  wrong  place,"  and  there  is  no 
instance  of  worse  misplaced  matter  than  putrefying  material 
coming  out  between  rosy  lips.  A  bad  breath  is  thus  pro- 
duced, though  it  is  often  quite  difficult  to  find  out  exactly 
where  the  decay  is  taking  place.  Sometimes  the  trouble  is 
with  the  food  in  the  stomach;  sometimes  it  arises  from  de- 
caying epithelium  on  the  tongue,  and  again  it  comes  from 
the  perverted  secretions  of  the  tonsils  or  the  nostrils.  What- 
ever the  source,  such  odors,  as  in  all  dirty  houses,  call  for 


Sewerage  and  Ventilation.  135 

increased  cleanliness.  Cleanliness  in  the  body  means  that 
all  refuse  must  be  either  swept  out  or  burned  up,  for  if  any 
residue  of  unused  food  escapes  these  processes,  like  all  other 
organic  matter  it  begins  to  ferment  and  becomes  a  nuisance. 
Strict  search  should  be  made  for  the  corner  in  which  such 
bodily  nuisances  originate,  and  these  thoroughly  deodorized, 
and  all  pains  taken  to  prevent  their  recurrence;  for  latterly 
we  are  coming  to  believe  that  much  of  our  disease  comes 
from  bodily  filth  and  its  results.  A  wonderful  change  has 
come  in  public  opinion  since  the  time  of  the  Middle  Ages 
in  regard  to  the  matter  of  dirt. 

The  early  Church  so  far  forgot  Moses's  teachings  on  this 
subject  that  filth  and  sanctity  were  supposed  to  be  necessa- 
rily associated.  Like  the  East  Indian  fakirs  of  to-day,  the 
greater  their  personal  uncleanliness  the  greater  the  odor  of 
sanctity,  and  other  odors,  doubtless,  as  well.  There  is,  for  in- 
stance, a  Church  tradition,  and  a  most  improbable  one  too,  that 
St.  James  never  took  a  bath,  and  a  much  better  authenticated 
one  concerning  St.  Anthony,  whose  biographer  declares  that 
"  up  to  extreme  age  he  never  even  washed  his  feet,  and  yet 
was  healthier  than  those  who  bathe  and  often  change  their 
clothes."  (No  wonder  he  is  the  patron  saint  of  erysipelas.) 
Saint  Hilarion  must  have  been  a  kindred  spirit,  for  history 
relates  that  he  never  washed  the  sackcloth  which  he  wore 
until  it  rotted  off,  like  the  rags  of  an  Egyptian  hermit 
spoken  of  in  highest  praise  by  St.  Jerome.  The  last  named 
saint  only  combed  his  hair  on  Easter  Sunday,  and,  like  St. 
Abraham  of  Edessa,  never  was  known  to  wash  his  face. 
"  The  fourth  century,"  says  a  recent  writer  on  this  subject, 
"  was  the  religious  apotheosis  of  dirt,  not  because  the  her- 
mits and  Church  had  any  quarrel  with  clean  skins,  but  be- 
cause of  the  sensuous  delight  and  comfort  of  bathing  in  hot 
climates.  Bathing  was  one  of  the  luxuries  renounced  at 
baptism,  and  fulminated  against  by  various  bishops  and 
councils  as  late  as  the  fifteenth  century." 

"  Like  priest,  like  people,"  brought  its  inevitable  results  in 
the  way  of  plague,  black  death,  and  the  other  awful  epidemics 


136  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

of  the  Middle  Ages.  With  our  modern  resources  of  quaran- 
tine and  cleanliness,  we  can  have  no  just  idea  of  the  terror 
and  fearful  mortality  produced  by  these  tilth  diseases.  Black 
death,  for  instance,  between  the  years  1333-1348,  is  believed 
to  have  killed  upward  of  45,000,000  persons.  The  very  means 
devised  by  the  Church  to  stay  their  progress — namely, 
masses,  processions,  and  flagellations — were  exactly  those 
which  assisted  the  spread  of  contagious  diseases,  for  such 
they  were.  The  general  dispersion  of  the  people  from  their 
filthy  abodes  at  last  brought  these  diseases  to  a  close,  not 
because,  as  was  then  believed,  the  wrath  of  an  angry  God  was 
calmed,  but  because  his  creatures  had  ceased  violating  the 
unchangeable  laws  of  health. 

Medicine  is  often  reproached  with  its  slow  advance  com- 
pared with  other  sciences,  but  it  should  be  always  remem- 
bered that  medicine  has  made  such  epidemics  impossible 
again.  A  better  knowledge  of  the  spread  of  contagious 
diseases,  of  the  value  of  quarantine  and  the  danger  of  filth 
has  brought  this  to  pass.  According  to  Erasmus,  the  filth 
of  the  English  home,  in  his  times,  must  have  been  almost 
past  endurance;  for  not  only  the  hovels  of  the  poor  but  the 
homes  of  the  well-to-do  had  their  floors  of  clay  covered  with 
rushes,  instead  of  carppts,  under  which  lay  an  unmolested 
accumulation  of  half-picked  bones,  decaying  grease,  stale 
beer,  and  other  unmentionable  things  which  need  not  be 
described  with  the  particularity  of  Erasmus.  The  table 
manners  of  those  days  (1457-1536)  were  equally  startling,  if 
we  may  judge  from  some  of  the  don'ts  of  the  books  of  the 
etiquette  of  that  time.  For  instance,  we  find  that  it  was 
considered  "uncomely  to  spit  on  the  table,"  and  "improper, 
after  rinsing  the  mouth,  to  reject  the  water  into  the  basin 
again,"  as  others  would  wash  their  mouths  from  the  same 
vessel.  Handkerchiefs  and  forks  were  entirely  unknown  to 
Englishmen,  when  it  was  good  form  to  hold  the  "joint  in  the 
left  hand  and  carve  with  the  other;  after  which  the  fingers 
should  be  wiped  on  the  shirt,  and  not  on  the  table-cloth." 
Small  wonder   that  with  such  habits  there  came  dreadful 


Sewerage  and  Ventilation.  137 

diseases  like  the  sweating  sickness,  the  black  death,  and  the 
plague.  The  proper  care  of  the  body  and  our  homes  has 
abolished,  forever,  as  it  seems,  these  dread  pests.  Our  mod- 
ern epidemics  are  insignificant  as  compared  with  those  of 
the  Middle  Ages,  and  the  most  dreaded  of  these — cholera — 
could  probably  be  practically  annihilated  by  proper  sanitary 
regulation  of  the  pilgrim  gatherings  at  Mecca  and  on  the 
Ganges.  (See  page  68.)  Public  health  can  only  be  ob- 
tained by  individual  cleanliness,  and  this  implies  that  our 
bodies,  like  our  houses,  shall  be  well-ventilated  and  clean 
outside  as  well  as  in.  To  be  happy  and  well  requires  that 
we  shall  be  clean,  within  and  without. 

I.  The  skin  must  be  able  to  perform  its  duties  properly. 
The  structure  of  the  skin  has  already  been  described  (page 
14),  and  does  not  need  repetition  here  further  than  to  call 
attention  to  the  fact  that  it  is  more  than  an  elastic  bag,  in 
which  are  held  the  muscles  and  bones.  The  skin  is  both 
a  secreting  and  excreting  organ  as  well.  The  distinction 
between  a  secretion  and  excretion  is  this  :  A  secretion  is  a 
substance  formed  for  further  use  by  the  body,  while  an 
excretion  is  a  substance  that  is  taken  away,  because  useless 
or  dangerous  to  the  body.  The  tears,  for  instance,  are  secre- 
tions, for  the  reason  that  they  are  needed  to  'wash  away 
irritating  substances  from  the  eyes,  while  urea  is  an  excretion 
whose  continuance  in  the  body  produces  convulsions  and 
death.  Secretion  and  excretion  are  performed  mainly  by 
bodies  known  as  glands,  located  in  various  parts  of  the  body, 
and  modified  in  shape  in  accordance  with  the  work  they  are 
expected  to  perform.  We  find  two  varieties  of  glands 
in  the  skin  by  which  it  carries  off  about  one  fourth  of  the 
liquid  sewerage  of  the  body.  The  sebaceous  glands  have  al- 
ready been  described,  and  the  other  and  more  important  of 
the  glands  of  the  skin  are  the  sudoriferous  glands,  so  named 
from  the  Latin  word  for  perspiration.  These  sweat  glands, 
already  figured  on  page  14,  number  over  two  million,  and 
consist  of  spiral  tubes,  each  about  one  fourth  of  an  inch  long, 
but  so  numerous  that  they  aggregate  in  length  about  two  and 


138  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

a  half  miles.  They  are  not  uniformly  distributed  over  the  body, 
being  less  in  number  on  the  back  and  neck  (four  hundred  to  the 
square  inch)  and  most  frequent  on  the  face,  palms  of  the  hands, 
and  soles  of  the  feet.  In  a  bright  light  on  a  warm  day  the 
moisture  can  be  seen  to  ooze  from  the  open  ends  of  these 
sweat-glands  in  minute  drops;  hence  the  disagreeable  moisture 
of  the  hands  in  bashful  persons,  for  the  quantity  of  perspira- 
tion is  regulated  by  the  amount  of  blood  in  the  capillaries, 
and  this,  as  we  have  seen,  is  under  the  control  of  the  nervous 
system  (see  Chapter  VII.). 

A  limited  amount  of  perspiration  always  takes  place  even  in 
the  coldest  weather,  as  may  be  proven  by  wrapping  a  limb  for 
some  time  in  an  impermeable  substance,  as  a  piece  of  India 
rubber,  and  examining  it  after  a  few  hours.  Although  the  rest 
of  the  body  appears  perfectly  dry,  that  beneath  the  rubber  will 
be  found  moist,  and  if  the  wrapper  has  been  kept  long  enough 
in  place  it  will  have  a  decidedly  unpleasant  odor  from  the  re- 
tained excretions;  or, mother  words,  invisible  perspiration  is 
constantly  taking  place,  but  is  unnoticed  unless  its  evaporation 
is  prevented.  Clothing  in  a  measure  does  this,  and  hence 
is  wisely  laid  off  at  night  to  allow  this  insensible  perspiration 
to  escape,  and  even  then  at  length  clothing  acquires  a  goat-like 
odor,  due  to  the  volatile  fatty  acids  which  escape  with  the 
perspiration.  This  can  be  in  a  measure  removed  by  baking 
the  offensive  clothing  when  it  cannot  be  washed,  but  the  ap- 
pearance of  such  odor  is  either  proof  of  the  need  of  more 
frequent  bathing,  or  that  the  clothing  has  been  worn  for  too 
long  a  time  and  ought  to  be  destroyed,  and  fresh  underwear 
and  bathing  employed. 

Much  that  goes  under  the  name  of  a  bath  as  little  resem- 
bles it  as  the  historic  one  prescribed  for  the  Duke  of  Gloucester, 
which  was  thus  prepared:  "  Five  or  six  large  sponges  were  first 
placed  upon  the  floor  for  the  duke  to  sit  or  lie  upon,  and  a 
larger  sponge  was  then  placed  in  the  middle  of  the  room  with 
a  sheet  spread  over  it,  after  which  the  duke,  having  been 
stripped,  was  made  to  sit  upon  the  largest  sponge,  while  an- 
other dipped  in  a  hot  decoction  of  herbs  was  to  be  lightly  passed 


Sewerage  and  Ventilation.  139 

over  the  body;  after  which  rose-water  was  splashed  over 
him,  as  a  rinsing.  The  duke  was  then  dried  by  being  wrapped 
in  a  sheet  and  marched  off  to  bed  to  cure  his  troubles."  This 
was  the  ideal  bath  in  the  times  of  Shakespeare,  for  it  was  for 
one  of  his  characters  that  this  particular  bath  was  ordered 
and  administered,  to  what  advantage  we  may  readily  guess.  A 
bath  to  be  efficient  for  cleansing  thoroughly  the  skin  ought  to  be 
warm,  and  large  enough  in  quantity  to  cover  the  whole  body, 
and  long  enough  continued  to  wash  free  the  dried  epi- 
dermis and  sebaceous  matter  which  clog  the  openings  of  the 
glands. 

Perfect  health  requires,  for  two  reasons,  that  the  glands  of 
the  skins  should  act  efficiently:  1.  The  sweat-glands  thus  prompt- 
ly relieve  the  blood  of  any  excess  of  liquids.  How  quickly  this 
is  done  may  be  tested  by  drinking  in  succession  two  or  three 
glasses  of  cold  water  on  a  warm  clay.  Hardly  is  the  last  one 
swallowed  before  the  whole  surface  of  the  body  is  covered 
with  moisture.  To  produce  this  the  absorbents  of  the 
stomach  must  have  taken  up  the  water  and,  via  the  lymphatics, 
carried  it  into  the  current  of  the  circulation.  The  slight  ex- 
cess of  fluid  was  sufficient  to  distend  the  capillaries  of  the 
skin.  This  distension  and  thinness  of  the  blood  caused  its 
watery  portion  to  transude  through  the  frail  walls  of  the  capil- 
lary and  into  the  cavity  of  the  sudoriferous  tubes,  from  whose 
open  ends  it  exudes  upon  the  surface  of  the  body  in  less  time 
than  it  has  taken  to  tell  of  it.  Perspiration  thus  relieves  the 
tension  of  the  blood-vessels,  and  carries  off  dangerous  sub- 
stances from  the  body.  So  important  is  this  function  that  to 
coat  the  body  with  varnish  or  with  gold  leaf,  as  once  did  one  of 
the  popes  with  a  slave  in  a  triumphal  procession,  inevitably 
produces  death,  from  the  inability  of  the  kidneys  to  carry  off 
effete  material :  2.  But  perspiration  does  more  than  this. 
Its  further  duty  is  to  regulate  the  external  heat  of  the  body. 
Evaporation  of  any  kind  requires  heat  to  be  abstracted  from 
gome  neighboring  body.  The  evaporation  from  the  surface 
of  the  body  is  carried  on  under  the  same  laws  as  elsewhere, 
but  within  our  own  bodies  we  find  this  beautiful  provision  in 


140  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

regard  to  heat ;  namely,  that  the  warmer  we  become  the  more 
we  perspire,  the  more  we  perepire  the  greater  the  evapora- 
tion of  this  perspiration,  and  hence  the  more  rapid  the  cool, 
ing  of  the  body.  The  sudoriferous  glands,  then,  are  a  sort  of 
heat  regulator  for  the  body,  and  so  well  do  they  perform  their 
work  that  we  have  little  fear  of  sunstroke  so  long  as  one  per- 
spires freely;  but  when  perspiration  does  not  appear  on  a 
sultry  day,  sunstroke,  or  heat  apoplexy,  is  not  far  off.  (Sun- 
stroke, until  the  doctor  comes,  can  be  best  treated  with  ice 
or  cold  applications  to  the  head,  and  plenty  of  cool  water 
poured  over  the  overheated  body.)  A  dry,  branny  skin  is 
always  to  be  looked  upon  with  suspicion,  for  unless  it  can  be 
made  to  properly  perform  its  work  it  is  very  apt  to  sooner  or 
later  result  in  some  obstinate  skin  disease  or  kidney  trouble. 
The  amount  of  water  that  may  pass  through  the  skin  with- 
out injury  is  remarkable,  as  for  instance  at  the  Swansea  cop- 
per furnaces,  where  the  thermometer  at  the  chest  of  the 
stoker  marks  120  degrees  and  that  at  his  back  but  50  de- 
grees. To  meet  this  intolerable  heat  he  drinks  freely,  at  least 
two  or  three  gallons  daily,  and  perspires  accordingly — 500  to 
COO  gallons  a  year — and  yet  is  none  the  worse  for  it,  but  lives 
to  a  hearty  old  age.  Sweating  is  often  disagreeable,  to  put 
it  mildly,  but  it  is  so  valuable  a  discomfort  that  it  is  far  bet- 
ter to  perspire  than  carry  about  with  us  the  pound  and  a  half 
of  dangerous  material  that  it  is  designed  to  relieve  us  of 
daily.  The  only  precautions  to  be  observed  in  the  matter  are 
that  we  must  not  allow  this  effete  material  to  gather  in  our 
clothes,  nor  ourselves  to  become  chilled  when  moist  with  per- 
spiration. The  amount  of  perspiration  determines  the  fre- 
quency of  bathing  required,  but  the  minimum  should  be  a 
weekly  bath,  apropos  of  which  Dr.  Hunt  very  candidly  remarks, 
"  We  have  never  known  a  person  by  nature  so  cleanly  as  not 
to  be  benefited  by  at  least  a  weekly  bath."  His  further  sug- 
gestion that  the  best  time  for  taking  a  bath  is  at  night  is  worth 
remembering.  A  sponging  of  the  neck,  head,  and  chest  on 
rising  is  also  an  excellent  tonic,  and  as  preventive  of  sore 
throat  and  colds  is  not  sufficiently  appreciated. 


Sewerage  and  Ventilation.  141 

A  climate  so  changeable  as  ours  requires  woolen  under- 
wear, of  varying  weight  for  different  seasons  of  the  year,  as 
the  only  safeguard  against  chilling  of  the  surface  of  the 
body.  There  is  a  great  difference  in  the  susceptibility  of  the 
skin  in  persons,  but  even  the  most  sensitive  one  will  tolerate 
the  long-fibered  woolen  garment,  and  where  this  cannot  be 
afforded,  the  lighter  grades  of  flannels  can  be  used  with  a 
muslin  garment  beneath.  The  value  of  such  protection  of 
the  body  can  hardly  be  overestimated,  for  it  keeps  the  skin 
gently  stimulated  to  action  and  prevents  the  congestion  of 
internal  organs,  which  happens  whenever  the  blood  is  driven 
from  the  surface  of  the  body.  Flannel  well  deserves  a  high 
place  in  the  doctor's  regard,  for  the  physician  who  attempts 
to  cure  rheumatism,  bowel,  or  kidney  troubles  without  its  aid 
has  thrown  away  his  best  medicine. 

In  these  latter  days  kidney  diseases  have  become  the  bug- 
bear of  all  intelligent  readers.  There  is  hardly  a  board  fence 
or  a  religious  paper  that  does  not  serve  to  advertise  some 
one's  sure  cure  for  Bright's  disease,  until  one  is  sorely  tempted 
to  wish  that  Dr.  Bright  had  kept  his  discoveries  secret. 
Quack  almanacs  and  Safe  Cures  have  gathered  so  rich  a  har- 
vest that  it  would  almost  be  better  for  the  world  at  large  if 
they  could  believe  with  the  ancient  Jews  that  the  kidneys 
were  the  home  of  the  affections.  The  kidneys,  or  reins,  as  they 
were  formerly  called,  are  simple  sacs  in  the  lowest  animals, 
but  as  the  animal  rises  in  the  scale  of  organization  the  kid- 
neys become  more  intricate,  until  in  man  they  are  so  complex 
that  it  is  hardly  possible  to  describe  them  properly  without 
further  illustrations  than  can  be  here  used.  Essentially,  how- 
ever, the  kidneys  are  clusters  of  sudoriferous  glands  which 
do  their  sweating  inside  of  the  body,  and  whose  tubes  bear  the 
name  of  urinif  erous  tubules  instead  of  sweat-glands.  Through 
these  tubes  the  watery  portion  of  the  blood  filters  through 
the  kidneys,  very  like  the  perspiration  on  the  surface  of  the 
body;  and  in  fact  in  the  older  works  on  physiology  the  kid- 
neys and  skin  are  spoken  of  as  the  common  eniunctories  (fil- 
ters) of  the  body.     The  work  of  the  one  can  in  a  measure 


142 


Physiology  and  Hygiene. 


be  done  by  the  other,  as  is  seen  in  summer,  when  the  secretion 
from  the  kidneys  is  small  and  that  from  the  skin  profuse, 
while  in  winter  exactly  the  contrary  is  found.  A  cross  sec- 
tion of  a  human  kidney  shows  that  it  is  made  up  of  two  parts, 
a  cortical,  or  outer,  and  an  inner,  or  medulla,  composed  of 
eight  to  twenty  cones,  the  so-called  pyramids,  whose  apexes 
point  toward  a  central  cavity,  from  which  a  tube  about  the 
size  of  a  goose-quill  runs  to  the  bladder.  On  the  apexes  of 
the  cones  are  found  a  multitude  of  minute  openings  which 
correspond  to  the  opening  of  the  sweat-glands  upon  the  sur- 
face of  the  body,  and  through  which  fluid  is  likewise  con- 
tinually passing,  by  filtration  from  the  blood.  The  tubes 
on  the  skin  are  called  sudoriferous  tubes,  in  the  kidney  they 
are  known  as  the  uriniferous  tubules,  and  if  we  follow  up  one 
of  these  tubules  from  the  kidney,  from  its  opening  on  the 

surface  of  a  pyramid,  we  shall 
find  that  it  terminates  in  a  dila- 
tation not  unlike  those  found  in 
the  sweat-glands.  The  dilatation 
in  the  urinary  tubule  is  known 
as  the  Malpighian  (from  its  dis- 
coverer, Malpighi)  capsule  (see 
figure  b),  which  incloses  within  it 
a  network  of  capillaries  (glomer- 
ulus) given  off  from  the  branches 
of  the  renal  artery.  Through  this 
tuft  of  capillaries  the  liquid  ref- 
use of  the  blood  exudes  and 
passes  into  the  tubule,  making  its 
way  down  this  until  it  at  last 
reaches  the  bladder.  The  Mal- 
pighian capsule,  then,  is  a  funnel,  and  the  glomerulus  a  net- 
work of  delicate  filters  to  extract  from  the  renal  blood  what 
should  be  carried  away  from  the  body  as  liquid  sewerage. 
The  quantity  of  this  varies  considerably  with  the  season  of 
the  year  and  the  amount  of  liquid  taken,  but  the  total  urine 
should  be  slightly  above  the  amount  of  water  taken  during 


Urinary  tubule.  (Huxley.) 


SE  WEE  AGE    AND    VENTILATION.  143 

the  twenty-four  hours.  A  persistent  variation  from  this  in- 
dicates something  wrong  in  our  plumbing  department.  The 
most  frequent  error  arises  from  too  sparing  a  use  of  water  to 
avoid  annoyance.  Professor  Vaughan  says  very  plainly  on  this 
subject:  "  The  merchant  goes  behind  his  counter,  and  to  avoid 
frequent  visits  to  the  water-closet  drinks  but  little  water. 
The  same  mistake  is  made  by  ladies  who  are  out  in  society 
much,  and  by  the  student  who  does  not  wish  to  be  interrupted 
in  his  studies  by  the  calls  of  nature;  but  the  result  is  that  the 
urine  becomes  small  in  amount,  strongly  acid,  of  high  specific 
gravity,  and  deposits  urates,  uric  acid,  or  oxalate  of  lime 
which  produce  irritation  of  the  bladder,  or  even  gravel." 

A  false  squeamishness  in  these  matters  often  inflicts  perma- 
nent injury,  for  the  urinary  apparatus  is  a  delicate  bit  of 
machinery,  lined  with  epithelium  as  sensitive  as  that  on  the 
lips,  and  so  located  that  when  once  diseased  it  inflicts  serious 
injury  upon  the  kidney.  By  reference  to  the  cut  on  page  142, 
it  will  be  seen  that  the  entire  length  of  the  urinary  tubule  is 
lined  with  epithelium.  This  when  diseased  or  removed  by 
sickness  allows  the  fibrinous  part  of  the  blood  to  escape  into 
the  tube  and  there  solidify  and  form  a  "  cast,"  or  it  may 
escape  so  rapidly  that  the  person  dies  of  exhaustion.  Such 
injury  to  the  tubules  constitutes  Bright's  disease,  apparently 
upon  the  increase  in  America,  from  a  variety  of  causes,  chief 
among  which  may  be  noticed  mental  strain  and  a  too  largely 
meat  diet  and  exposure  to  cold  and  wet,  etc.  The  nervous 
theory  of  kidney  disease  may  not  be  generally  accepted,  but  it 
is  well  known  that  the  nervous  system  has  a  marked  influence 
in  the  matter.  Fright  or  hysteria  may  largely  increase  the 
urine,  and,  per  contra,  irritation  of  the  nerves  which  supply 
the  vessels  of  the  kidney  has,  according  to  Huxley,  the  im- 
mediate effect  of  stopping  the  excretion  of  urine.  And, 
lastly,  any  physician  who  has  carefully  watched  the  prog- 
ress of  a  chronic  case  of  kidney  trouble  will  tell  you  that 
business  anxieties  and  responsibilities  invariably  aggravate 
such  cases,  whose  only  chance  for  permanent  recovery  is  to 
escape  from  all  kind  of  anxiety,  dress  warmly,  and  avoid  a 


144  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

too  largely  animal  diet.  The  latter  is  strongly  insisted  upon 
by  Fothergill,  and  with  a  good  show  of  reason,  for  those  na- 
tions that  are  most  largely  meat-eaters  are  those  most  afflicted 
with  kidney  troubles.  The  reason  given  for  this  is  as  fol- 
lows: Nitrogenous  foods  are  exuded  from  the  body  as  urea. 
Meat  is  our  most  largely  nitrogenous  food.  Excess  of  urea 
stimulates  the  kidneys  to  overaction.  The  more  meat,  the 
more  urea,  the  greater  the  stimulation  of  the  kidney  to  its 
own  hurt.  Next  to  Australia,  we  are  the  greatest  meat-eaters 
on  the  face  of  the  earth,  and  consequently,  says  Fothergill, 
grievously  afflicted  with  kidney  affections.  The  red  or  white 
sediment  often  found  in  the  urine  is  often  a  cause  of  anxiety, 
but  it  has  no  causal  relation  to  kidney  disease,  and  usually 
indicates,  as  has  already  been  said,  that  sufficient  water  is 
not  being  taken  to  keep  the  drainage  pipes  well  flushed  out. 
More  water  generally  will  cure  the  majority  of  these  cases, 
except  where  a  cayenne  pepper  deposit  persists.  This  means, 
where  the  means  mentioned  above  have  been  faithfully 
tried,  that  more  animal  diet  is  being  taken  than  can  be 
burned  up  in  the  system.  Nature's  method  of  warming  the 
body  is  to* burn  up  its  garbage  to  a  soluble  ash,  which  can 
be  readily  washed  out  of  the  body.  This  ash  is  known  as 
urea,  and  is  so  soluble  that  it  never  forms  sand  or  gravel. 
If,  however,  the  body's  fuel  is  not  perfectly  consumed  it  forms 
an  ash,  or  clinker,  which  cannot  thus  be  washed  away,  and 
this  clinker  is  the  red  sand  (uric  acid)  just  described. 

The  place  where  the  conversion  of  uric  acid  to  urea  ought 
to  take  place  is  in  the  liver,  next  to  be  described;  but  before 
considering  this,  just  a  word  further  concerning  the  hygiene 
of  the  sewage  of  the  body.  It  contains  substances  danger- 
ous if  retained  in  the  body,  for  a  continued  failure  of  the 
kidneys  to  act  invariably  produces  death  with  convulsions 
(uraemia.)  Scarcely  less  dangerous  is  the  retention  of  other 
refuse  in  the  body.  It  is  a  slouchy  servant  who  does  not 
clean  away  the  ashes  from  her  kitchen  stove  at  least  once  a 
day,  and  we  are  poor  tenants  if  we  cannot  do  as  much  for  the 
house  in  which  we  live.     Habit  is  second  nature  in  this  as  in 


Sewerage  and  Ventilation.  145 

many  other  less  important  matters,  and  those  are  healthiest 
and  live  longest  who  are  scrupulous  in  this.  Its  neglect 
brings  a  bad  breath,  a  sallow  skin,  headache,  and  loss  of  ap- 
petite, as  it  ought,  for  the  whole  body  is  poisoned  by  the 
re-absorption  of  poisonous  matters  that  ought  to  have  been 
voided  from  the  body.  But  carelessness,  or  some  seem- 
ingly more  important  engagement,  is  allowed  to  interfere 
with  what  ought  to  be  as  faithfully  attended  to  as  washing 
the  hands  and  face,  until  the  house  of  clay  becomes  truly 
filthy,  and  then  comes  a  bilious  attack. 

And  what  is  a  so-called  bilious  attack  ?  It  is  simply  nat- 
ure's house-cleaning,  and  fully  as  inconvenient  as  its  domestic 
namesake.  One  of  the  duties,  and  in  the  opinion  of  the 
writer  the  chief  duty,  of  the  liver  is  to  burn  up,  or  oxidize, 
certain  substances  no  longer  of  use  in  the  body.  One  of 
these  is  uric  acid,  just  mentioned,  but  if  there  is  too  much 
of  this  uric  acid  turned  in  upon  the  liver  to  be  readily  dis- 
posed of,  the  liver  refuses  at  first  to  work,  sulks  awhile,  then 
turns  every  thing  upside  down  within  us  in  its  efforts  to  turn 
out  the  offending  substances.  This  emeate  we  call  a  bilious 
attack,  and  it  certainly  efficiently  accomplishes  what  it  sets 
out  to  do;  but  one  such  strike  begets  another,  and  in  a  little 
time  we  find  a  liver  prone  to  rebel  on  the  slightest  excuse, 
and  thoroughly  not  to  be  depended  upon.  The  liver  is  one 
of  the  worst  abused  and  least  understood  organs  in  the  body. 
The  ancients  thought  its  chief  duty  was  to  secrete  black 
bile,  and  that  blacli  bile  was  synonymous  with  melancholy, 
for  the  Greeks  believed  that  the  soul  resided  in  the  liver,  and 
in  their  language  melancholy  and  black  bile  mean  one  and 
the  same  thing.  We  have  learned  that  there  are  other  causes 
for  melancholy  than  black  bile,  but  that  there  are  none  more 
efficient  than  a  disordered  liver.  Whether  we  think  life 
worth  living  depends  largely  upon  the  condition  of  the  body's 
chemical  works,  for  to  such  a  factory  the  liver  can  be  well 
likened. 

It  lies  in  regions  1  and  2,  figured  in  Plate  I,  and,  as  may 
be  seen  by  the  annexed  cut,  it  is  abundantly  supplied  with 
V 


146 


Physiology  and  Hygiene. 


blood-vessels,  so  much  so  that  the  liver  acts  as  a  sort 
of  siding  into  which  are  switched  trains  of  both  venous 
and  arterial  blood  for  a  transfer  of  their  freight.  Much 
of  this,  gathered  up  by  the  veins  from  the  stomach, 
intestines,  pancreas,  etc.,  is    hurtful,  and   must  be   rapidly 

excreted  or  it  will  bring 
damage  to  the  body. 
This  the  liver  effects  by 
working  over  these  ref- 
use materials  in  such  a 
way  that  they  either  be- 
come harmless  or  are 
transformed  into  new 
substances  of  further 
value.  Its  method  of 
disposing  of  uric  acid 
has  already  been  spoken 
of,  and  the  formation  of 

bile    is    an   instance    of 
Diagram  op  the  Circulation  in  the  Lobules    .,  _       T    .  » 

of  the  liver.  the  second.     It  is  one  ot 

a,  a.  Intralobular  veins,     ib,  b.   Interlobular  the  triumphs  of  modern 
yeina-  chemistry  that  it  can  ex- 

tract from  useless  coal-tar  carbolic  acid  and  other  valuable  sub- 
stances, but  long  before  modern  antiseptics  were  dreamed  of 
the  liver  was  patiently  making,  in  bile,  one  of  the  most  efficient 
preservatives  yet  discovered.  But  bile  is  more  than  this,  for 
it  not  only  prevents  the  decomposition  of  food,  but  also,  as 
nature's  castor  oil,  emulsifies  fats  and  carries  off  the  excess  of 
carbon  and  hydrogen  from  the  blood,  thus  purifying  it.  The 
failure  to  do  this  in  the  spring,  or  rather  our  stupidity  in 
forcing  the  liver  to  dispose  of  the  same  amount  of  hydro- 
carbons as  during  the  cold  of  winter  (see  page  91),  brings 
on  what  is  familiarly  known  as  spring  fever,  for  which  our 
grandfathers  were  not  irrationally  bled.  A  wiser  thing, 
however,  is  to  eat  such  food  (see  Chapter  IV)  as  shall  not  force 
extra  work  upon  a  liver  already  overtaxed  with  a  winter's 
buckwheat  cakes.     These,  like  the  Esquimaux'  whale  blub- 


Sewerage  and  Ventilation.  147 

ber,  are  excellent  fuel  for  the  heat  required  during  the  win- 
ter, but  when  the  spring  brings  a  milder  temperature  they 
are  as  useless  and  harmful  as  it  would  be  to  keep  a  furnace 
running  all  summer;  and  worse  than  that,  for  the  liver,  so  to 
speak,  burns  itself  out  in  the  process.  It  clogs  like  another 
furnace  under  the  same  mistreatment,  and  its  unfortunate 
owner  suffers  from  its  smoke  in  the  shape  of  a  crop  of  boils. 
All  this  because  we  abuse  one  of  the  most  important  organs 
of  the  body,  in  spite  of  its  protests  in  the  way  of  headache, 
loss  of  appetite,  and  general  lassitude,  whose  rational  treat- 
ment has  already  been  spoken  of  in  Chapter  IV. 

Moreover,  there  is  good  reason  to  believe  that  a  healthy 
liver  is  necessary  to  destroy  certain  poisonous  compounds  that 
are  continually  being  formed  in  the  body.  This  was  first 
proven  by  Drs.  Schiff  and  Lautenbach  of  Geneva,  who  found 
that  tying  the  portal  vein — the  great  vein  which  brings  blood 
to  the  liver — in  the  lower  animals  produces  a  tendency  to 
sleep,  loss  of  sensibility  in  general,  slowing  of  the  pulse,  ster- 
torous respiration,  and  death  without  convulsions  in  a  few 
hours.  Ligation  of  the  hepatic  viens  produced  no  such  effect, 
wherefore  Dr.  Lautenbach  believes  that  these  symptons  are 
due  to  the  accumulation  in  the  blood  of  a  poisonous  substance, 
or  substances,  which  normally  are  destroyed  in  the  liver. 
This  is  furthermore  proven  by  the  fact  that  blood  taken  from 
the  circulation  of  one  of  the  animals  whose  portal  vein  had 
been  tied  invariably  produced  toxic  symptoms  when  injected 
into  another  animal ;  while  the  same  animal  had  remained 
unaffected  when  injected  with  blood  before  the  ligation  of 
the  portal  vein.  Schiff  was  unable  properly  to  isolate  the 
poison  thus  produced,  but  considered  it  volatile,  and  antag- 
onistic in  its  action  to  nicotine,  conia,  and  hyoscyamus. 

.More  recently  it  has  been  rendered  more  than  probable  that 
the  poison  found  at  such  times  in  the  blood  belongs  to  those 
known  at  the  present  as  leucomaines.  Careful  experiment 
proves  thai  these  Leucomaines  are  constantly  being  formed  in 
the  body,  and  unless  they  are  neutralized  invariably  produce 
symptoms  like  those  described  by  Schiif.     Selmi  discovered 


148  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

some  years  ago  certain  poisonous  alkaloids  of  putrefaction 
to  which  he  gave  the  name  of  ptomaines.  Gauthier  subse- 
quently found  analogous  poisonous  alkaloids  in  the  living 
healthy  body  ;  these  he  named  leucomaines  to  distinguish 
them  from  the  alkaloids  of  putrefaction.  The  leucomaines  are 
being  carefully  studied  in  their  relation  to  health  by  the 
French  physicians,  foremost  among  whom  are  M.  Peter  and 
Professor  Bouchard.  Gauthier  thinks  he  has  succeeded  in 
isolating  no  less  than  five  of  these  alkaloids  from  the  muscular 
juice  of  the  larger  animals.  These  leucomaines,  he  believes, 
are  formed  in  life  largely  by  the  action  of  oxygen.  For 
instance,  thought  is  attended  with  heat,  and  heat  pro- 
duces, according  to  Gauthier,  in  the  brain  neurin,  an  alka- 
loid injurious  to  life  ;  muscular  movements  similarly  form 
creatinine  and  the  alkaloids  mentioned  above.  All  of  the 
working  organs  of  the  body  are  now  supposed  to  form  these 
leucomaines;  for  example,  according  to  Kossel,  in  the  pancreas 
and  spleen  can  be  found  adenine,  derived  from  the  cell  nuclein. 
Adenine,  when  tested  upon  the  lower  animals,  produces  paral- 
ysis of  the  vasomotor  system,  congestion  of  the  lungs,  liver, 
and  kidneys.  The  kidneys,  if  Bouchard's  experiments  can 
be  relied  upon,  carry  off  no  less  than  seven  of  these  leuco- 
maines from  the  body,  and  the  remainder  are  destroyed  in  the 
liver,  whither  they  are  carried  by  the  portal  circulation. 
Some  of  these,  or  others,  are  doubtless  excreted  constantly 
through  the  skin,  for  the  evil  effects  of  coating  it  with  var- 
nish, or  having  it  destroyed  by  burning,  have  long  been 
known.  Death  in  the  latter  cases  results  not  from  shock, 
but  from  the  retention  in  the  system  of  substances  which  are 
normally  carried  off  through  the  skin.  Life  is  then  not 
merely  an  eddy,  as  Huxley  describes  it,  but  also  almost  a  pro- 
longed suicide,  for  we  are  constantly  producing  these  leuco- 
maines, and  if  they  are  not  speedily  removed  or  destroyed 
they  produce  disease  and  death.  Health  is  the  equilibrium 
between  a  proper  production  and  elimination  of  toxic  sub- 
stances which  are  prepared  within  the  body  by  the  action  of 
its  own  organs  ;  disease  is  often  due  to  accumulation  of  these 


Sewerage  and  Ventilation.  149 

poisonous  materials  within  the  body,  an  auto-intoxication, 
as  it  is  called  (intoxication,  whether  from  alcohol  or 
other  causes,  means  and  is  poisoning).  The  leucomaine 
poisons  are  derived  from  digestive  changes  in  the  food  in  the 
intestinal  canal,  and  from  changes  within  the  tissues  them- 
selves. The  contents  of  the  intestines,  according  to  Bouchard, 
are  particularly  poisonous,  and  their  re-absorption  undoubtedly 
produces  what  is  known  as  the  typhoid  state  or  condition. 
Fortunately,  in  a  sound  body  this  rarely  takes  place,  because 
of  the  disposition  of  the  leucomaines,  already  spoken  of.  No 
wonder  then  that  a  crippled  liver  casts  a  man  into  gloom  ; 
but  it  is  not  the  liver  per  se  that  depresses  the  entire  man, 
but  the  poisons  that  the  man  has  generated  within  himself 
and  is  unable  to  carry  off  without  the  liver's  aid.  Truly  we 
are  fearfully  and  wonderfully  made,  and  nowhere  is  this 
more  perfectly  shown  than  in  the  daily  balance  between  life 
and  poisoning,  through  which  we  all  hope  to  struggle  for 
seventy  years  or  more.  The  wonder  is  not  that  we  die, 
but  that  we  live  at  all,  shut  in  and  hemmed  around  by 
dangers  seen  and  unseen,  not  the  least  of  which  are  the 
poisons  we  make  ourselves  and  invisible  bacteria  hereafter  to 
be  described.  Perfect  sewerage  is  the  price  of  health,  in  our 
bodies  no  less  than  in  our  houses,  and  any  deviation  from  this 
is  sure  to  bring  its  penalty.  In  the  case  of  the  body,  as  in  our 
homes,  one  of  the  surest  means  of  suspecting  that  something 
is  out  of  the  way  is  the  appearance  of  disagreeable  odors. 
Such  warning  we  have  when  the  breath  grows  fetid,  as  it 
always  does  when  food  decomposes  in  the  body  instead  of 
being  digested.  This  putrefaction  may  take  place  in  the 
stomach,  but  more  frequently  occurs  lower  down  in  the  in- 
testinal canal.  The  favorite  location  for  this  decomposition 
of  |'<>od  is  the  sigmoid  flexure  and  descending  colon,  where 
the  partially  digested  food  is  prone  to  lodge  and  by  the  re- 
absorption  of  the  gases  thus  generated  poison  the  breath. 
Pain  and  tenderness  in  these  regions,  a  fetid  breath,  and  ;i 
persistently  sallow  skin  with  constant  weariness  indicate  this 
slow  poisoning  and  call  for  a  physician's   advice,    without 


150  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

which    the  case    is  prone  to  run  into  an   invalidism  whose 
cause  is  often  undreamed  of.     (Region  IX,  Plate  I.) 

An  unpleasant  breath,  as  has  elsewhere  been  said,  may  also 
proceed  from  chronic  disease  of  the  lungs,  nose,  or  throat; 
but  these  have  other  so  well  marked  symptoms  that  their  ori- 
gin can  hardly  escape  one's  attention.  That  just  alluded  to 
is  so  remote  from  its  cause  that  it  often  passes  unsuspected. 
We  also  find  in  many  of  these  cases  the  tonsils  endeavor  to 
do  extra  work,  and  become  enlarged  and  show  cheesy  masses 
in  their  folds.  This  is  not  diphtheria,  though  often  treated 
as  such,  but  a  little  forced  energjr  on  the  part  of  the  glands 
on  the  surface  of  the  tonsils  to  carry  off  poisonous  substances. 
These  cheesy  excretions  are  very  prone  to  decompose 
and  poison  the  breath,  especially  of  one  who  has  the  bad 
habit  of  breathing  through  the  opened  mouth  instead  of 
through  the  nose  as  nature  intended.  The  nasal  passages  are 
especially  designed  to  warm  the  air  passing  through  them  be- 
fore it  reaches  the  lungs.  Indians  are  said  to  judge  of  a 
man's  courage  by  his  ability  to  keep  his  mouth  shut,  and  pos- 
Bibly  from  them,  with  whom  he  spent  many  years  of  his  life, 
George  Catlin  derived  the  ideas  embodied  in  his  little  pam- 
phlet, Keep  Your  Mouth  Shut.  It  is  capital  reading,  even  yet. 
After  many  years  of  careful  observation,  among  both  civilized 
and  uncivilized  nations,  Catlin  came  to  the  conclusion  that 
"  those  who  hunt  about  open-mouthed,  like  chub  or  trout,"  are 
never  healthy  nor  long-lived.  So  important  did  Catlin  es- 
teem his  subject  that  he  concludes  his  little  book  in  this  way: 
"  If  I  had  a  million  dollars  I  would  spend  it  in  printing  four 
million  of  my  books  and  distributing  them  to  four  million 
mothers,  rich  and  poor.  I  would  not  obtain  therefor  any 
monument  or  decoration  of  nobility,  but  I  would  have  ob- 
tained the  peculiarly  joyful  satisfaction  of  knowing  that  I 
had  left  to  posterity  a  legacy  of  much  higher  value  than 
money  can  ever  have."  Catlin,  in  the  main,  was  right;  for, 
to  say  nothing  of  the  air  of  vacant  stupidity  imparted  to  the 
countenance  from  going  about  with  the  mouth  half  opened, 
the  practice  is  positively  injurious.     Inhalation  through  the 


Sewerage  and  Ventilation.  151 

nose  warms  the  air  and  frees  it  from  dust  during  its  passage 
downward.  Nor  is  it  a  matter  of  chance  that  there  is  so 
direct  a  passage  for  the  air  via  the  nose  to  the  windpipe. 
The  root  of  the  tongue  and  the  soft  palate  veiy  materially 
interfere  with  free  breathing  through  the  mouth,  while  a 
probe  carried  along  the  floor  of  the  nostril  soon  finds  itself 
in  an  opening  behind  the  soft  palate  and  directly  over  the 
windpipe,  or  the  tube  conveying  the  air  to  the  lungs.  You 
can  trace  this  tube  down  the  neck  with  your  fingers  until  it 
disappears  behind  the  top  of  the  breast-bone.  If  you  were 
inside  of  it  you  would  see  that  it  divides  there  into  a  right 
and  left  branch,  going  respectively  to  the  right  and  left 
lungs,  where  it  branches  and  rebranches  into  the  bronchial 
tubes  {bronchioles),  which  finally  end  in  little  cells.  The 
bronchial  tubes  are  at  first  cartilaginous,  or  rubbery,  like  the 
windpipe;  but  as  they  descend  this  cartilage  vanishes  and 
the  bronchioles,  at  last,  become  only  soft,  flexible  tubes  of 
muscle  and  mucous  membrane.  The  mucous  membrane  of 
the  lungs  is  peculiar  on  account  of  its  covering  of  waving 
hairs — ciliated  epithelium — which  keep  fanning  the  air  in 
and  out  of  these  delicate  tubes  and  air-cells  (alveoli).  These 
alveoli  or  air-cells  (one  fortieth  to  one  seventy-fifth  of  an 
inch)  look  like  a  bunch  of  tiny  grapes  from  the  outside;  in- 
side they  are  literally  little  cells  opening  into  one  another, 
whose  walls  are  frescoed  every-where  with  the  tints  of  the 
smallest  conceivable  blood-vessels.  These  minute  vessels  (cap- 
illaries) have  walls  thinner  than  the  most  delicate  blotting- 
paper.  Through  these  cell  walls  the  exchange  of  gases  be- 
tween the  blood  and  the  air -takes  place  under  the  most  favor- 
able circumstances.  Gases  will  pass  through  animal  mem- 
branes like  water  through  filter  paper,  and  in  these  delicate 
air-cells  the  venous  blood  is  separated  from  its  necessary  oxy- 
gen only  by  tihis  frail  partition  of  membrane.  Through  this 
carbon -dioxide  quickly  finds  its  way  and  diffuses  itself 
through  the  air  in  the  lungs,  while  the  oxygen  of  the  air 
unites  with  the  haemoglobin  of  the  blood,  as  already  described 
(page  107),  and  is  by  it  carried  the  round  of  the  circulation  to  be 


152  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

again  exchanged  for  carbonic  acid  gas.  Just  how  or  where 
this  exchange  is  made  is  not  yet  definitely  known.  It  re- 
quires a  more  intimate  knowledge  of  physiological  chemistry 
than  is  yet  possessed;  for  man  is  the  modern  miracle  of  the 
burning  bush,  which  is  perpetually  burning  and  yet  never 
consumed.  The  results  of  this  combustion  are  invaluable  to 
us,  for  upon  them  hang  our  warmth  and  the  possibility  of 
living  at  all.  Without  this  oxidation  of  disused  tissues  we 
should  either  be  swathed  in  unbearable  fat  or  poisoned  with 
leucomaines,  just  described.  And  all  this  is  done  so  quietly 
and  easily  that  we  never  stop  to  think  any  thing  about  what 
is  being  done  unless  there  is  an  interference  somewhere  in 
the  process.  Chemists  are  acquainted  with  more  than  thirty 
compounds  produced  by  the  action  of  the  oxygen  of  the  blood 
on  the  tissues,  and  the  failure  to  form  any  one  of  these  disturbs 
more  or  less  the  whole  economy  of  the  body.  Curiously 
enough,  but  three  of  these  are  ordinarily  excreted  by  the 
lungs,  and  these  form  nature's  soda-water,  if  not  in  exactly  the 
same  proportion  as  that  of  the  shops,  which  contains,  besides  the 
water,  only  carbon-dioxide  and  syrup.  Respiration  amounts 
finally  to  the  air  hurrying  down  and  paying  priceless  oxygen 
in  exchange  for  the  vilest  soda-water,  compounded  of  water, 
carbon  dioxide,  and  too  often  flavored  with  onions,  whisky, 
or  tobacco.  It  would  be  a  fair  criticism  to  say  that  the  soda- 
water  furnished  by  the  blood  is  an  outrageous  swindle;  for 
there  is  a  great  deal  too  much  dioxide  for  the  water,  and  as 
for  its  syrup — pugh  !  To  tell  the  truth,  no  sooner  is  the 
trade  made  than  the  air  seems  disgusted  with  it,  and  by  the 
help  of  the  ciliated  epithelium  climbs  up  and  out  of  the  wind- 
pipe and  hurries  off  to  the  plants,  which  are  nature's  verita- 
ble old  junk-men,  buying  up  all  sorts  of  cast-off  things  and 
paying  in  precious  oxygen.  This  trading  has  been  going  on 
ever  since  the  first  breath  of  life,  and  for  all  w»  can  see  must 
go  on  until  there  shall  be  a  new  heaven  and  a  new  earth. 
The  best  that  we  can  do  is  to  see  that  fair  play  is  given  in 
both  of  the  trades,  but  to  do  this  you  must  keep  a  sharp 
lookout  on  carbon-dioxide,  which  will  play  you  many  a  mean 


Sewerage  and  Ventilation.  153 

trick  if  not  well  watched.  Carbon,  or  charcoal,  in  its  various 
forms,  is  one  of  our  most  useful  possessions;  but  burn  it  and 
it  gives  rise  to  this  colorless,  transparent  gas,  which  ought  to 
be  excluded  from  all  decent  society.  But  this  gas  finds  its  way 
in  almost  every-where.  We  use  up  daily  about  a  coffee-cup 
of  water  and  a  bit  of  charcoal  about  the  same  size  in  making 
that  vile  mixture  which  was  politely  called  soda-water,  but 
which  is  really  damp  carbon-dioxide.  It  is  a  narcotic  poison, 
worse  than  liquor;  for  whisky  gives  its  poor  victims  at  least 
a  short  period  of  happiness,  while  carbon-dioxide  only  stupe- 
fies and  leaves  him  with  a  worse  headache  the  next  morning, 
or  a  very  little  more  kills  him.  If  you  have  any  doubt  of  it, 
read  some  of  those  fearful  stories  of  ignorance,  such  as  that 
of  the  famous  Black  Hole  of  Calcutta,  where  one  hundred 
and  forty-six  men  were  shut  up  in  a  room  eighteen  feet 
square,  and  in  the  morning  one  hundred  and  twenty-six  were 
found  dead  and  the  larger  portion  of  those  remaining  died 
after  their  release  from  fever  contracted  during  that  fearful 
night.  But  that  is  not  the  worst  thing  that  carbon-dioxide 
ever  did,  for  such  places  as  the  Black  Hole  put  us  on  our 
guard;  but  there  are  thousands — principally  women — who 
are  slowly  being  poisoned  to  death  by  close  rooms  and  bad  air. 
I  have  often  wished  that  this  carbon-dioxide  was  as  black  as 
ink,  so  that  we  might  know  of  its  coming;  but  though  it  has 
not  this  cuttle-fish  power,  it  gives  no  less  certain  warning  of 
its  coming  if  you  will  only  watch  for  it.  Drowsiness,  head- 
ache, and  the  corpse-like  smell  of  too  many  of  our  churches 
and  school-rooms  tell  you  in  a  most  convincing  way  what  I 
mean.  It  is  not  always  the  fault  of  the  preacher  or  teacher 
that  thoughts  will  wander  and  the  head  grow  weary.  There 
is  more  than  one  prayer-meeting  which  needs,  instead  of 
singing,  "My  drowsy  powers,  why  sleep  ye  so?  Awake 
my  sluggish  soul!"  to  have  its  sexton  open  the  windows. 
15;i<l  air  is  always  a  poison,  whether  found  in  a  church  or  a 
slum,  and  any  air  becomes  bad  air  by  being  breathed  over 
and  over  again. 

The  crying  sins  of  the  modern  house  are  its  small  sleeping- 
>7* 


154  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

rooms  and  its  lack  of  proper  ventilation.  The  sleeping-room 
ought  to  be  the  largest  and  airiest  room  in  the  house,  and 
preferably  on  the  second  floor,  and  heated,  if  possible,  with 
an  open  grate  fire.  Such  should  always  be  the  room  selected 
for  a  run  of  fever  or  other  protracted  sickness;  for  in  no 
other  way  can  a  room  be  so  easily  and  thoroughly  ventilated 
as  by  a  draft  of  hot  air  up  an  open  chimney.  Failing  this, 
two  hundred  and  fifty  to  three  hundred  cubic  feet  of  space 
should  be  supplied  for  each  person  in  the  room  for  the  night, 
and  provision  made  for  removing  six  hundred  and  fifty 
cubic  feet  of  vitiated  air  per  hour.  Less  cubic  contents  per 
person  is  unsafe,  and  will  certainly  result  in  carbonic  acid 
poisoning  of  a  milder  or  severer  type.  Much  of  that  which 
passes  for  sewer-gas  poisoning  is  simply  the  result  of  sleep- 
ing in  unventilated  rooms;  for  Dr.  Harwood  says  most  justly 
on  this  subject:  "The  want  of  wholesome  air  does  not  mani- 
fest itself  on  the  system  imperatively;  no  urgent  sensation 
being  produced,  like  that  of  hunger,  there  is  great  danger  of 
mistaking  its  indications.  The  effects  of  the  absence  of  pure 
air  are  only  slowly  and  insidiously  produced,  and  thus  too 
frequently  are  overlooked  until  the  constitution  is  generally 
impaired  and  the  body  equally  enfeebled." 

The  difficulties,  however,  in  northern  climates  of  efficiently 
ventilating  a  modern  house  without  expensive  apparatus  or  dan- 
gerous draughts  are  such  that  with  most  builders  the  whole 
subject  is  neglected,  and  the  only  resource  left  us  is  the  win- 
dow. In  moderate  weather  a  room  can  be  well  ventilated  by 
this,  by  raising  the  lower  sash  an  inch  or  so  and  placing  be- 
neath it  a  tightly  fitting  board.  This  leaves  an  opening  be- 
tween the  upper  and  lower  sash  about  the  middle  of  the  win- 
dow, through  which  fair  ventilation  takes  place  without  direct 
drafts  of  cold  air.  No  thoroughly  efficient  and  cheap  method, 
so  far  as  the  writer  is  informed,  of  winter  ventilation  has  yet 
been  devised  for  private  dwellings,  although  many  excellent 
devices  for  larger  edifices  are  in  operation  where  a  steam- 
engine  and  blower  can  be  used.  The  best  that  can  be  done 
in  an  ordinary  dwelling  during  the  winter  is  to  rely  upon 


Sewerage  and  Ventilation.  155 

small  holes  bored  in  the  upper  part  of  the  sash  into  which 
small  bent  tubes  or  elbows  pointing  upward  may  be  inserted 
with  valves  to  open  or  shut  as  required.  But  even  with 
these  the  temperature  in  different  parts  of  our  living  rooms 
varies  too  greatly  for  the  health  of  children  and  feeble  adults. 
Dr.  Benjamin's  careful  investigations  show  that  with  a  tem- 
perature of  seventy-five  at  the  level  of  an  adult's  head,  the 
floor  registers  only  fifty  degrees,  and  this  in  a  well  built  brick 
house  with  a  warmed  cellar.  In  similar  rooms  the  tempera- 
ture at  the  ceiling  was  ninety,  four  feet  from  an  ordinary 
window  seventy,  one  foot  from  the  window  fifty,  and  at  the 
window  forty  degrees.  Or,  in  other  words,  a  little  child  finds 
a  difference  of  twenty-five  degrees,  Fahrenheit,  between  sitting 
in  its  mother's  lap  and  playing  on  the  floor,  and  between 
thirty  and  forty  degrees  from  the  neighborhood  of  the  stove 
and  the  window,  which  is  probably  one  of  the  reasons  that 
keeping  little  children  in  bed  is  no  small  factor  in  their  recov- 
ery from  cold  and  the  minor  ailments  of  childhood.  Thin 
shoes,  even  in  the  house,  are  dangerous  experiments,  for  the 
reasons  given  above,  and  sunshine,  a  frequent  change  of 
rooms,  and  a  free  ventilation  by  opening  the  windows  of  the 
room  just  left  are  potent  aids  to  long  life  and  usefulness. 
Moreover,  fresh  air  is  not  alone  sufficient  unless  we  learn  how 
to  properly  inflate  the  lungs,  for  which  purpose  we  must 
breathe  deeply  in  whatever  pure  atmosphere  we  are  placed. 

Up  and  down  the  windpipe  a  current  and  return  current 
of  air  need  to  pass  fifteen  to  eighteen  times  a  minute, 
and  oftener  if  we  are  children,  or  if  for  any  reason  respira- 
tion is  imperfectly  done.  "  As  easy  as  breathing  "  is  a  fre- 
quent simile,  but  a  sufferer  from  asthma  or  pneumonia  tells 
a  very  different  story.  With  them  existence  requires  a  ter- 
rible struggle  with  asphyxia — the  doctor's  term  for  a  lack 
of  air  and  its  resulting  imperfect  aeration  of  the  blood,  pre- 
viously described  in  this  chapter.  This  aeration  requires, 
in  addition  to  the  nose  and  ^windpipe,  the  aid,  of  the  lungs, 
which  are  continuous  with  the  windpipe,  and  are  inclosed 
each   in   a  tough,  closed  sac,  known  as  the  pleura  (plural 


156  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

plurne).  The  two  pleurre,  as  may  be  seen  from  the  annexed 
cut,  do  not  meet  except  at  one  point  in  front.  This  leaves 
an  interspace  between  them,  called  the  mediastinum,  and  in 
this  mediastinum  are  held  all  of  the  viscera  of  the  thorax  ex- 


cept the  lungs.  In  the  cavity  of  the  pleura?  we  find  the 
lungs,  which  extend  from  one  to  one  and  a  half  inches  above 
the  collar  bones  to  the  diaphragm,  or  from  the  root  of  the 
neck  to  the  sixth  and  seventh  ribs.  The  broad  concave  bases 
of  the  lungs  rest  upon  the  convex  surface  of  the  diaphragm, 
the  thin  lower  edges  of  the  lungs  fitting  accurately  into  the 
wedge-like  space  between  the  ribs  and  the  diaphragm.  The 
lungs  are  of  unequal  size,  somewhat  conical  in  shape,  and  lie 
in  the  right  and  left  sides  of  the  thorax  respectively,  the  base 
of  the  right  lung  being  considerably  hollowed  out  by  the 
bulging  upward  of  the  liver,  which  projects  upward  as  far  as 
the  fifth  rib ;  the  base  of  the  left  lung  is  also  concave,  though 
to  a  less  degree,  by  the  upward  projection  of  the  stomach, 
spleen,  and  left  lobe  of  the  liver.  The  right  lung  is  some- 
what larger  and  broader,  owing  to  the  location  of  the  heart. 
The  right  lung  weighs  about  two  ounces  more  than  the  left 


Sewerage  and  Ventilation.  157 

lung,  and  is  nearly  two  inches  shorter  than  the  left,  owing  to 
the  projection  upward  of  the  liver  upon  that  side.  The  right 
lung  has  three  lobes,  the  left  two,  and  both  lungs  hang  sus- 
pended in  the  thoracic  cavity  by  what  is  known  as  the  root 
of  the  lungs.  This  root  is  a  collection  of  blood-vessels  and 
the  trachea,  sending  a  branch  to  each  lung  composed  of  a 
bronchial  tube,  pulmonary  artery,  bronchial  arteries  and 
veins,  and  the  pulmonary  nerves,  lymphatics,  and  glands  in- 
closed in  a  reflection  of  the  pleura.  The  weight  of  the  lungs 
is  about  forty  ounces,  and  their  color  at  birth  is  pinkish, 
but  they  grow  darker  with  age,  so  that  the  lungs  of  an 
adult  are  slate-colored,  or  even  darker.  Lung  tissue  is  so 
light  and  spongy  that  when  it  is  inflated  it  floats  on  water, 
and  crackles  when  handled,  owing  to  the  air  in  the  inter- 
stices of  its  lobules.  Each  of  these  lobules  contains  one 
of  the  branches  of  the  bronchial  tubes  with  its  terminal  air- 
cells,  vessels,  and  fibrous  tissue  holding  them  together. 
These  air-cells  are  blind  pouches  in  which  the  subdivisions 
of  the  bronchi  terminate,  and  it  will  be  remembered  that  the 
bronchi  are  branches  or  prolongations  of  the  windpipe,  which, 
under  the  name  of  the  main  bronchus,  enters  the  lungs  and  di- 
vides and  subdivides  into  smaller  bronchi,  right  and  left,  un- 
til, as  has  been  said,  each  of  these  bronchioles  terminates  in 
an  air-cell,  or  alveolus,  as  it  is  sometimes  called. 

The  form  of  these  air-cells  is  well  shown  on  the  following 
page,  which  gives  a  cross-section  of  one  of  the  ultimate  bron- 
chioles and  its  terminal  vesicles.  Each  of  these  is  held  in  a 
network  of  capillaries,  which  inclose  each  alveolus  of  the 
lungs  in  a  sort  of  basketwork  of  blood-vessels.  Each  air-cell 
measures  about  one  seventy-fifth  of  an  inch  in  diameter,  but 
as  there  are  estimated  to  be  eighteen  million  of  these  air-cells 
their  combined  surface  amounts  to  more  than  two  hundred 
square  yards,  or  more  than  fifty  times  the  extent  of  the 
surface  of  the  body.  Through  this  thin  film  of  tissue,  ex- 
posed to  the  air  on  both  sides,  the  entire  amount  of  blood  in 
the  body  flows  three  times  in  a  minute,  requiring  for  its 
aeration  twelve  thousand  quarts  of  air  daily,  which  must  be 


158  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

breathed  in  and  out  daily  to  keep  the  body  properly  venti- 
lated.    This  is  accomplished  by  inspiration  and  expiration,  as 

it  is  called;  for  breathing,  simple  as  it 
seems,  is  a  complex  act  composed  of 
breathing  in,  breathing  out,  and  rest- 
ing; for  the  lungs,  like  the  heart, 
must  have  an  interval  for  rest.  Each 
inspiration  ought  to  draw  into  the 
lungs  thirty  cubic  inches  of  fresh  air, 
and  each  expiration  ought  to  send  out 
about  the  same  amount,  although  not 
the  identical  air  just  breathed  in;  for 
we  never  force  out  all  of  the  air  con- 
tained   in    the   lungs.     The   average 

ait  ceil  (W,  alveoli  (c),  and  capacity  of  the  lungs  may  be  set  at 
bronchiole  (a).  two  hundred  and  thirty  cubic  inches 

of  air  ;  thirty  may  be  driven  out  by  an  ordinary  expiration, 
so  that  at  the  close  of  expiration  there  should  be  two 
hundred  cubic  inches  in  the  lungs.  The  thirty  cubic 
inches  that  flows  to  and  fro  is  known  as  tidal  air;  the  two 
hundred  cubic  inches  is  divided  into  what  is  known  as  resid- 
ual air  (one  hundred  to  seventy-five  cubic  inches),  which  can- 
not be  driven  out  by  any  force  on  our  part,  and  about  an 
equal  amount  that  is  known  as  supplemental  air,  or  that 
which  ordinarily  remains  in  the  lungs,  although  it  can  be 
driven  out  by  forced  expiration.  The  two  hundred  cubic  inches 
of  residual  and  supplementary  air  are  those  which  are  left  in 
the  lungs  after  expiration.  Add  to  this  the  thirty  cubic 
inches  of  tidal  air  drawn  in  by  inspiration,  and  we  find  two 
hundred  and  thirty  inches  within  us  at  the  close  of  an  ordinary 
inspiration. 

Now  two  hundred  and  thirty  cubic  inches  of  air  uncom- 
fortably distend  the  lungs,  so  we  ease  them  by  expiring,  or 
squeezing  out,  about  thirty  cubic  inches  of  impure  air,  for  only 
one  seventh  of  all  the  air  that  is  in  the  lungs  is  changed  at 
each  breath.  The  remaining  two  hundred  inches  aerate 
the  blood,  while  the  thirty  cubic  inches  of   tidal  air  hur- 


Sewerage  and  Ventilation.  159 

rying  up  and  down  the  throat,  may  be  considered  the  fresh 
recruits  and  returning  on  sick  leave  being  carried  away  to  be 
refreshed,  then  hurrying  back  to  relieve  the  two  hundred 
cubic  inches  of  air  which  stand  between  us  and  death ;  for  as- 
phyxia results  if  fresh  air  is  not  speedily  brought  to  their  re- 
lief. In  addition  to  the  two  hundred  and  thirty  cubic  inches 
of  air — tidal,  residual,  and  supplemental — in  times  of  emerg- 
ency seventy-five  to  one  hundred  cubic  inches  more  may  be 
forced  in  temporarily.  This  is  known  as  complemental  air, 
and  is  invaluable  to  the  gasping  asthmatic  or  the  sufferer  in 
the  last  stages  of  chronic  heart  trouble. 

The  importance  of  early  increasing  the  amount  of  the  sup- 
plemental air  that  can  be  taken  into  the  lungs  can  hardly  be 
overestimated.  "Writing  and  studying  at  a  desk  or  table  so 
inevitably  tend  to  round  the  shoulders  and  hollow  the  chest 
that  some  method  of  counteracting  this  should  be  systemat- 
ically adopted.  Indian  clubs,  an  inhaling  tube,  dumb-bells, 
and  mountain  climbing,  when  possible,  will  do  wonders  in 
this  direction.  Singing,  under  a  competent  teacher,  also  does 
much  to  expand  the  chest,  and  if  half  the  attention  were  given 
to  the  development  and  care  of  the  lungs  which  is  given  to 
the  hair,  consumption  might  be  nearly  eradicated,  instead  of 
causing  nearly  a  fifth  of  all  the  deaths  of  adults  in  this 
country.  A  sunless,  unventilated  house  will  certainly  germi- 
nate the  seeds  of  the  disease  whenever  they  are  latent,  or,  if 
the  bacterial  theories  of  tuberculosis  are  correct,  prepare  a 
suitable  ground  in  which  the  bacillus  tuberculosis  (see  Chap- 
ter VIII)  will  increase  and  multiply,  until  the  consumptive 
is  worn  out  in  a  vain  effort  to  expel  them  by  coughing.  And 
what  is  a  cough  ?  It  is  nature's  way  of  clearing  out  the 
windpipe  ;  really  only  a  spasmodic  expiration.  For  instance, 
instead  of  the  normal  inspiration  and  expiration,  when 
\\c  cough  we  first  draw  in  a  deep  inspiration — these  are  the 
few  seconds  of  blissful  uncertainty  of  whether  you  are  going 
to  or  not  which  usually  precede  a  cough  or  a  sneeze — but 
the  glottis  closes  while  something  tickles  a  nerve,  say  in  the 
larynx,  which  grows  rebellious,  and  instead  of  giving  us  time 


160  Physiology  and  Hygiexe. 

for  a  well  regulated  expiration,  with  at  spasm  it  forces  the 
air  back  through  the  glottis  with  a  rush  that  carries  the  offend- 
ing  crumb  or  mucus  before  it ;  if  not,  the  process  is  repeated 
as  long  as  necessary.  Sneezing  is  essentially  the  same,  except 
that  in  sneezing  the  trouble  is  in  the  nose  ;  so  instead  of  the 
air  being  forced  out  from  the  mouth,  the  soft  palate  and  the 
back  of  the  tongue  come  together  and  force  the  air  out  with  a 
"  chee-chee  "  through  half -closed  teeth  and  nose. 

Sighing  is  a  prolonged  inspiration,  and,  when  not  due  to 
first  love,  like  yawning  is  a  proof  of  bad  air  or  an  exhausted 
nervous  system.  Yawning  differs  from  sighing  in  that  its 
prolonged  inspiration  is  followed  by  a  prolonged  expiration, 
both  of  which  are  largely  involuntary.  Snoring  is  a  flapping 
to  and  fro  of  the  soft  palate  during  sleep.  With  some  the 
sound  occurs  only  during  inspiration,  with  others  during 
both  inspiration  and  expiration,  and  takes  place  during  very 
profound  sleep,  or  in  those  whose  nervous  control  over  the 
parts  has  been  lessened.  Laughing  and  sobbing  are  physi- 
ologically the  same,  for  they  are  both  spasmodic  inspiration 
and  expiration,  and  hence  the  ease  with  which  the  practiced 
orator  will  carry  his  auditors  from  one  to  the  other.  Hic- 
cough is  also  a  spasmodic  expiration  due  to  a  spasm  of  the 
diaphragm,  or  the  great  fan-shaped  muscle  which  divides  the 
trunk  of  the  body  into  the  thoracic  and  abdominal  cavities. 
Its  front  edge  is  attached  to  the  breast-bone,  and  its  sides 
slope  downward  and  are  fastened  to  the  lower  six  ribs.  The 
diaphragm,  therefore,  does  not  form  a  horizontal  partition,  but 
arches  upward  in  shape  not  unlike  a  policeman's  helmet;  but  un- 
like that  in  that  it  is  not  stiff,  but  exceedingly  flexible,  changing 
its  position  with  every  inspiration  and  expiration.  It  is  par 
excellence  the  muscle  of  respiration,  assisting  it  like  the  flexible 
side  of  a  pair  of  bellows.  (See  cut,  page  40).  Gaseous  disten- 
sion of  the  stomach  may  press  upon  the  diaphragm  so  as  to 
be  mistaken  for  heart  disease.  Fasting  relieves  this 
trouble  in  short  order,  while  it  will  aggravate  real  cases 
of  heart  trouble,  for  which  it  is  often  mistaken.  The  dia- 
phragm may  be  even  ruptured  by  distension,  as  happened  in  the 


Sewerage  and  Ventilation". 


161 


following  unique  case,  reported  some  years  ago  by  Dr.  Bren- 
ner, of  a  man  who  actually  split  his  diaphragm  in  two,  and 


Cut  showing  diaphragm  from  its  lower  side,  and  openings  through  which  pass  the 
vena  cava  U3),  esophagus  (12),  and  aorta  (11). 

died  from  eating  four  plates  of  potato  soup,  "numerous" 
cups  of  tea  and  milk,  followed  by  a  large  dose  of  bicarbonate 
of  soda  to  aid  digestion.  His  stomach  swelled  enormously, 
and  tore  the  diaphragm  on  the  right  side,  causing  immediate 
death. 

But  if  the  diaphragm  is  at  times  a  source  of  danger,  it  is, 
on  the  other  hand,  invaluable  for  breathing  and  laughter. 
The  real  value  of  the  latter  to  the  body  is  that,  as  says 
another,  "probably  there  is  not  a  remote  corner  or  little 
inlet  of  the  minute  blood-vessels  of  the  body  that  does  not 
feel  some  wavelet  from  the  great  convulsion  produced  by 
hearty  laughter  shaking  the  central  man.  The  blood  moves 
more,  it  conveys  a  different  impression  to  all  the  organs  of 
the  body,  as  it  visits  them  on  that  particular  mystic  journey, 
when  the  man  is  laughing,  from  what  it  does  at  other  times. 
And  thus  it  is  that  a  good  laugh  lengthens  a  man's  life  by 
conveying  a  distinct   and   additional   stimulus   to  the  vital 


162  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

forces.  The  time  may  come  when  physicians,  attending 
more  closely  than  they  do  now  to  the  innumerable  subtle 
influences  which  the  soul  exerts  upon  its  tenement  of  clay, 
shall  prescribe  to  a  torpid  patient '  so  many  peals  of  laughter, 
to  be  undergone  at  such  and  such  a  time,'  just  as  they  do 
that  far  more  objectionable  prescription — a  pill,  or  an  electric 
or  galvanic  shock ;  and  shall  study  the  best  and  most 
effective  method  of  producing  the  required  effect  in  each 
patient." 

Diagram  of  Heart  and  Circulation  (Plate  II). 

a.  a.  Vena  cava,  inferior  and  superior. 

r.  a.  Right  auricle  with  orifices  of  the  venae  cavae  emptying  into  it. 

t  v.  Tricuspid  valve,  closing  orifice  between  right  auricle  and  ventricle 
of  heart. 

r.  v.  Right  ventricle  of  heart. 

p.  a.  o.  Orifice  of  pulmonary  artery. 

p.  a.  Right  and  left  pulmonary  arteries. 

p.  v.  Pulmonary  veins,  arising  from  the  lungs  and  emptying  by  four 
orifices  into  the  left  auricle. 

I.  a.  Left  auricle. 

m.  v.  Mitral  valve,  closing  orifice  between  left  auricle  and  left  ventricle. 

I.  v.  Left  ventricle. 

a.  o.  Aortic  orifice. 

a.  o.  a.  Arch  of  the  aorta. 

a.  a.  Ascending  aorta. 

a.  d.  Descending  aorta,  at  last  communicating  by  capillaries  with  the  in- 
ferior vena  cava,  though  this  communication  is  not  shown  in  the  plate,  as  in 
the  case  of  the  ascending  aorta. 

N.  B.  The  course  of  the  blood  is  shown  by  the  arrows  in  the  diagram,  it3 
color  indicating  whether  it  is  arterial  or  venous. 


The  Daughters  of  Music.  163 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE   DAUGHTERS  OF   MUSIC,  AND  THEY  THAT  LOOK  OUT  AT 

THE  WIXDOWS. 

The  diaphragm,  in  addition  to  its  duties  described  in  the 
preceding  chapter,  greatly  assists  speech,  the  most  precious 
of  all  of  man's  accomplishments.  The  means  by  which  this  is 
done  was  poetically  described  in  Punch  many  years  ago  as 

follows  : 

"  The  pharynx  now  goes  up, 
The  larynx,  with  a  slam, 
Ejects  a  note  from  out  the  throat, 
Pushed  by  the  diaphragm" — 

a  jingle  that  may  better  serve  to  fix  the  order  of  events  in 
speech  than  a  more  technical  description  of  speaking,  or 
singing  ;  which  differs  one  from  the  other  mainly  in  the  aid 
furnished  by  the  lips  and  the  tongue  in  speaking. 

Lips  were  made  for  other  purposes  than  merely  to  be  kissed; 
and  in  fact  they  are  kissed  too  often  for  peace  and  safety, 
especially  in  the  case  of  little  children,  who  apparently  have 
no  rights  in  this  matter  that  adults  feel  bound  to  respect.  A 
kiss  in  Iceland,  even  if  the  lady  consents,  is  punished  with  a 
fine  sufficient  to  furnish  a  whole  ship's  crew  with  pilot 
jackets,  and  a  similar  or  heavier  penalty  ought  to  be  laid 
upon  the  promiscuous  kissing  of  babies,  and  ladies  among 
themselves.  It  is  a  foolish  and  nonsensical  practice,  and 
worse  than  that,  dangerous,  for  diphtheria  and  worse  diseases 
are  thus  carried  about  a  community  to  the  perplexity  of  the 
doctor  and  the  dismay  of  his  patient.  Diphtheria  is  often, 
if  not  usually,  communicated  in  this  way,  from  what  is  sup- 
pled to  be  a  simple  sore  throat.  As  competent  authorities 
as  Drs.  Pepper  and  Jacobi  believe  that  there  are  more  cases 


164  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

of  mild  diphtheria  out  of  bed  than  in,  and  that  the  severer 
forms  of  the  disease  may  be  produced  from  these  mild 
cases.  The  possibility  of  this  ought  to  put  an  end  to  the 
indiscriminate  kissing  of  babies,  for,  as  it  was  recently  well 
put  in  the  Scientific  American,  "  The  children  will  not 
suffer  if  they  go  unkissed  ;  and  their  friends  ought  for 
their  sake  to  forego  the  luxury.  A  single*  kiss  has  been 
known  to  infect  a  family  ;  and  the  most  careful  may  be 
in  a  condition  to  communicate  the  disease  without  know- 
ing it.  Beware,  then,  of  playing  Judas  to  the  little 
ones." 

But  osculation  is  not  the  only  use  to  which  lips  can  be  put. 
Their  sense  of  touch  is  so  delicate  that  the  blind  have  been 
able  to  read  by  moving  their  lips  to  and  fro  over  an  embossed 
page.  The  chief  use,  however,  of  the  lips  aside  from  their  as- 
sistance in  eating  is  the  part  that  they  play  in  speech.  Cer- 
tain of  the  letters  are  known  as  labials,  for  the  reason  that 
they  are  formed  by  the  lips,  and  many  others  cannot  be 
formed  without  their  aid.  For  instance,  the  same  expira- 
tion may  be  made  to  sound  either  e,  a,  or  o,  according  to  the 
position  of  the  lips.  L,  r,  f,  and  v  sounds  are  made  by  the 
tongue  and  lips  jointly,  and  whispering  is  the  voice  produced 
by  the  vibration  of  the  muscular  walls  of  the  lips,  or,  as  Hux- 
ley puts  it,  a  whisper  is  in  fact  a  very  low  whistle.  The  wild 
beast  of  the  mouth,  which,  according  to  St.  James,  is  untamable 
— "  For  every  kind  of  beasts,  and  of  birds,  and  of  serpents,  and 
of  things  in  the  sea,  is  tamed,  and  hath  been  tamed  of  man- 
kind: but  the  tongue  can  no  man  tame" — usually  gets  the 
blame  of  speech;  but  the  fact  is  that  the  tongue  is  really  the 
least  important  organ  in  speaking,  and  has  nothing  to  do 
with  voice  at  all.  The  distinction  between  the  two  is  that 
voice  is  the  sound  produced  by  the  vibration  of  elastic  cords; 
speech  is  this  sound  modified  by  the  throat,  tongue,  and  lips. 
Voice  is  the  music  produced  by  the  pipe-organ  of  the  throat, 
while  speech  is  its  notes  modified  by  the  sounding-board 
of  the  pharynx  and  the  various  shapes  the  cavity  of  the 
mouth  can  be  made  to  assume;   many  and  various  in  that 


The  Daughters  of  Music.  165 

amazing  "  ready,  spontaneous,  automatic,  self-sustaining  flow 
of  speech  peculiar  to  our  sisters,  in  which  each  develops  her 
proposition  without  the  slightest  regard  to  what  the  other  is 
saying."     (O.  W.  Holmes.) 

But,  useful  as  is  the  tongue,  it  is  not  absolutely  indispensa- 
ble for  talking.  We  shall  see  hereafter  that  the  larynx  plays 
the  major  part  in  speech.  Huxley  gives  a  long  account 
of  a  man  who  had  his  tongue  cut  off  clear  back  to  the  soft 
palate  and  yet  was  able  to  talk  fluently,  and  pronounce 
all  letters  except  t,  d,  m,  s,  and  p,  which  were  strangely 
changed  into  other  consonant  sounds;  thus,  tin  was  fin;  dog, 
thog;  cat,  catf;  big,  pig;  tack,  fack  or  pack;  dine,  vine;  mad, 
madf;  tool,  pool;  do,  thew;  goose,  gooth,  etc. 

So  that  cutting  out  the  tongue  might  no  more  cure  a  gos- 
sip than  the  pilgrim  fathers'  remedy  of  the  ducking-stool. 
But  extirpating  her  tongue  would  ruin  her  enjoyment  of  her 
neighbor's  preserves,  for  the  sense  of  taste  is  located  in  the 
mucous  membrane  of  the  tongue,  especially  in  its  back  part. 
Much  of  that  which  passes  for  taste  is  really  smell,  for  it  is 
the  odor  of  food  which  makes  the  mouth  water.  The  tongue, 
like  the  fingers,  has  papillae,  or  ridges,  scattered  over  it  vary- 
ing in  shape  according  to  their  location  and  duties.  Three 
forms  of  these  are  known,  namely,  filiform,  fungiform,  and 
circumvallate.  The  filiform  are  long  and  pointed,  and  probably 
do  little  more  than  roughen  the  tongue,  and  thus  help  it  to 
move  the  food  hither  and  thither.  In  the  calf  these  are  almost 
spines,  as  you  have  appreciated  if  you  ever  happened  to  get  your 
hand  into  its  mouth  when  you  were  feeding  "  bossy  "  salt. 
These  are  the  papillae  which  when  coated  give  your  tongue  its 
furred  look.  (See  Chapter  I,  page  18.)  The  fungiform  (club- 
shaped)  papillae  are  found  here  and  there  over  the  front  of  the 
tongue,  while  the  fortified  or  circumvallate  are  arranged  in 
the  shape  of  the  letter  V  at  the  base  of  the  tongue.  These 
latter  are  the  chief  organs  of  taste;  but  just  how  these  little 
knobs  tell  us  that  sugar  is  sweet  and  vinegar  is  sour  is  more 
than  at  present  is  known,  except  that  it  must  be  done  through 
the  filaments  of  the  nerves  which  cluster  over  them.     We 


166  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

are  very  apt  to  confound  smell  with  taste,  so  that  mothers  do 
a  very  sensible  and  physiological  thing  when  they  hold 
Johnnie's  nose  to  make  him  take  the  luscious  castor  oil.  If 
she  could  only  keep  her  fingers  there  all  day  it  would  be  all 
right;  but  when  they  are  removed,  then  comes  that  awful 
corpse-like  taste  which  must  be  known  to  be  appreciated,  and 
yet  doubtless  the  Esquimaux,  who  guzzle  train  oil,  would 
smack  their  lips  over  a  bottle  of  "  cold  pressed."  A  Russian 
peasant  would  turn  up  his  nose  at  the  American  idol,  "  pie," 
but  feast  like  a  king  on  raw  whisky  and  tallow  candles,  and 
even  our  refined  French  brethren  go  into  ecstasies  over  a  dish 
of  fried  frogs  or  squirming  snails.  One  man's  meat  is  an- 
other's poison.  There  are  whole  families  who  have  a  horror 
of  cheese.  Some  people  cannot  even  take  a  homeopathic 
globule  of  mutton.  There  are  well  authenticated  cases  on 
record  of  gout  always  following  fish,  fearful  sickness  from 
eating  strawberries,  and  many  similar  cases  in  regard  to  shell- 
fish. Strange  as  these  may  seem,  we  must  leave  them  with 
the  thought  that  they  are  no  stranger  than  many  other  pecu- 
liarities that  we  inherit  from  our  parents. 

If  it  be  true,  as  some  most  excellent  people  assert,  that  we 
ought  to  pay  no  more  attention  to  the  food  we  are  eating  than 
if  we  were  shoveling  coal  into  a  furnace,  too  much  time  has 
been  spent  on  this  matter  of  taste.  So  let  us  proceed  past  the 
soft  palate,  which  hangs  as  a  curtain  before  the  pharynx,  or 
the  cavity  at  the  top  of  the  throat.  The  use  of  the  soft  palate 
is  to  prevent  water  and  food  from  passing  into  the  nostrils, 
which  it  closes  as  it  is  forced  up  in  swallowing.  Behind  this 
palate  curtain  we  find  a  little  triangular  room  called  the  pha- 
rynx, from  which  we  can  either  go  up  stairs  by  way  of  the  sky- 
lights opening  into  the  nostrils,  or  down  stairs  via  either  the 
windpipe  or  esophagus.  The  last-named  route  takes  into 
the  kitchen  and  dining-room,  already  visited  (see  Chapter  IV) ; 
the  former  leads  into  the  larynx,  which  different  routes  were 
evidently  unknown  to  the  school-boy  who  wrote:  "  A  throat  is 
convenient  to  have,  especially  for  ministers  and  roosters. 
The  one  eats  corn  and  crows  with  it;  the  other   preaches 


The  Daughters  of  Music. 


167 


■** 


through  hisn  and  ties  it  up."  If  the  young  author  had,  how- 
ever, taken  his  stand  before  a  looking-glass  and  pushed  down 
the  root  of  his  tongue  as  far  as  possible,  at  the  same  time  ut- 
tering the  sound  a-a,  he  could  have  seen  why  food  and  preach- 
ing do  not  travel  the  same  route.  At  the  top  of  the  wind- 
pipe with  a  good  light  may  be  seen  a  yellowish-white  leaf- 
like body — the  epiglottis — moving  to  and  fro  with  every 
inspiration  and  expiration  and  shutting  down  like  a  trap-door, 
or  bridge,  over  which  the  food  passes  when  we  swallow.  The 
larynx  is  essentially  a  triangular  carti-  ^A^\ 
laginous  box,  flattened  behind  and  at  the 
sides,  while  in  front  it  forms  a  vertical 
ridge — named  Adam's  apple,  in  memory 
of  Eve's  gift,  the  core  of  which  is  fabled 
to  have  stuck  at  this  point.  This  larynx 
box  is  hung  on  a  V-shaped  bone  and 
consists  of  nine  cartilages,  the  largest  of 
which  is  named  the  shield,  or  thyroid, 
cartilage,  from  its  shape.  On  its  lower 
edge  it  is  joined  to  another,  the  cricoid, 
or  seal  ring,  cartilage,  whose  seal  being 
placed  behind  leaves  a  gap  in  front  filled  trachea  and  larynx. 
in  only  with  membrane.  By  the  aid  of  a  ep- Epiglottis,  Or. cricoid, 
laryngoscopic  mirror,  properly  held  in  the  throat,  we  may 
see,  if  we  are  curiously  inclined,  on  the  upper  and  back  part 
of  the  seal-ring  cartilage  fastened  two  curly  cartilaginous 
bits,  known  as  the  funnel  (arytenoid)  cartilages,  to  which  are 
fastened  tiny  muscles  to  pull  these  funnel  cartilages  to- 
gether or  apart. 

Just  below  these  cartilages  are  the  vocal  chords  proper, 
which  correspond  to  the  strings  of  a  violin,  of  which  the 
human  pharynx  represents  the  body,  or  sounding-board,  for 
a  violin  more  nearly  resembles  a  human  voice  in  its  tones 
than  any  other  musical  instrument.  Musically  speaking,  the 
human  vocal  apparatus  is  a  combination  of  a  reed-organ 
and  the  violin,  of  which  the  trachea  is  the  pipe,  and  the 
pharynx  and  the  nasal  cavities  the  body  of  the  violin,  whose 


168  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

strings  are  in  th^  larynx,  which  we  have  seen  is  placed 
below  the  epiglottis  in  the  windpipe.  These  violin  strings 
are  known  to  the  anatomist  as  vocal  cords,  but  when  we  speak 
of  them  as  such  please  drive  out  of  your  mind  any  idea  that 
they  look  at  all  like  violin  strings  or  wrapping  cords.  On 
the  contrary,  if  you  ever  have  the  opportunity  to  look  with  a 
small  mirror  (laryngoscope)  properly  held  over  the  larynx, 
you  will  find  the  windpipe  just  below  the  epiglottis  nearly 
closed  by  two,  pale  reddish  projections,  or  swellings,  on  its 
inner  surface.  These  do  not  completely  come  together,  but 
leave  a  V-shaped  opening  between  them.  With  an  attempt 
to  say  Ah-a  you  will  find  these  edges  become  nearly  parallel, 
the  chink  narrower,  and  its  thin  edges  vibrate  from  the  cur- 
rent of  air  set  in  motion  below  from  the  lungs  outward. 
The  principle  is  that  of  the  blade  of  grass  held  between  our 
thumbs  which  we  blow  upon  to  make  squeak.  Put  two 
blades  of  grass  at  a  slight  angle  between  your  thumbs  and 
you  have,  except  in  color,  a  very  fair  working  model  of  the 
human  vocal  cords  in  repose.  The  size,  shape,  and  relative 
position  of  the  blades  of  grass  are  about  those  of  a  human 
glottis,  or  the  apparatus  by  which  we  sing  and  talk.  The 
sound  produced  by  this  grassy  musical  instrument  is  caused 
by  the  vibrations  produced  in  the  grass  by  the  motion 
of  the  air  blown  upon  it.  These  vibrations  start  waves  of 
sound,  and  upon  the  frequency  of  these  depends  the  pitch 
of  our  musical  instrument — if  we  may  so  call  the  grass  be- 
tween our  thumbs.  In  exactly  the  same  way  the  human 
larynx  is  made  to  produce  sounds  by  the  passage  of  the  air 
from  the  lungs  outward.  When  the  chords  are  separated 
so  as  to  form  a  V-shaped  chink  the  air  passes  quietly  in  and 
out  without  giving  rise  to  any  sounds ;  but  when  the  chords 
are  drawn  parallel  and  their  free  edges  put  upon  the  stretch, 
the  passage  of  the  breath  through  this  narrow  opening  causes 
its  edges  to  vibrate,  just  as  it  did  with  the  blades  of  grass,  or 
as  does  the  reed  in  a  pipe-organ,  and  similarly  produces  audi- 
ble sounds,  or  sound  waves,  upon  which  they  depend;  for  all 
sounds  depend  upon  vibrations  of  varying  rapidity.     If  they 


The  Daughters  of  Music.  169 

are  irregular  rind  of  uncertain  intervals  we  call  the  result  a 
noise,  but  if  these  vibrations  come  with  regularity  we  pro- 
duce what  is  known  as  a  musical  note.  This  may  be  proven 
by  holding  a  card  against  a  toothed-wheel  slowly  rotating. 
If  struck  irregularly  it  makes  only  a  noise,  and  so  long  as 
the  wheel  turns  slowly  we  can  distinguish  between  these 
separate  noises,  or  in  other  words  the  vibration  of  the  card 
is  so  transient  and  irregular  that  it  fails  to  produce  the 
regularity  in  vibration  necessary  to  make  a  musical  note. 
Turn  the  wheel  faster,  and  hold  the  card  against  the  teeth, 
and  the  whole  character  of  the  sound  changes.  It  becomes 
continuous  and  musical,  and  as  the  machine  revolves  faster 
and  faster,  the  pitch  of  the  sound  is  heightened  to  a  shriek, 
and  then  becomes  inaudible,  or  in  other  words  the  vibrations 
may  become  so  rapid  as  to  fail  to  make  an  impression  upon 
the  auditory  nerves,  which  can  hear  sound  vibrations  only 
between  certain  limits.  The  exact  number  of  sound  waves 
necessary  to  produce  any  given  note  has  been  accurately 
counted,  and  by  a  proper  instrument  giving  these  vibrations 
any  given  note  can  be  reproduced.  Now  the  number  of  these 
vibrations  depends  upon  the  length  and  tension  of  the  string 
vibrating,  and  all  this  is  regulated  in  our  throats  by  the 
action  of  the  tiny  muscles  guiding  the  vocal  cords.  The 
quality  of  a  voice — bass,  tenor,  etc. — depends  uj)on  the 
relative  shape  of  the  larynx,  and  hence  the  different  quality 
of  male  and  female  voices,  and  the  inability  of  the  gentler  sex 
to  sing  bass.  The  range  of  a  voice  depends  upon  the  differ- 
ence of  tension  to  which  the  vocal  chords  can  be  subjected, 
and  accuracy  in  singing  depends  upon  our  ability  to  adjust 
this  tension  to  any  point  desired.  No  amount  of  training  can 
give  a  man,  or  a  woman,  longer  or  shorter  vocal  cords,  and 
hence  we  cannot  greatly  vary  the  natural  range  of  voice; 
but  education  is  all-essential  to  accuracy  in  singing.  The 
differences  of  adjustment  in  the  vocal  cords  are  so  slight 
and  so  delicate  that  those  who  cannot  sing  are  lost  in  wonder, 
love  and  praise  in  the  presence  of  an  artist  such  as  Catilani, 
whose  voice  is  said  to  have  been  accurate  to  a  register  of 
8 


170  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

three  octaves,  while  their  own  voices  can  accomplish  only 
three  notes,  and  cannot  certainly  be  depended  upon  for 
even  those ;  or,  still  worse,  like  the  unfortunate  boy,  may  get 
the  credit  for  Sunday  wood-sawing  when  only  holding  a 
private  praise  service  in  the  barn. 

Speech,  as  has  already  been  said,  depends  upon  the  modi- 
fication in  the  sounds  produced  by  the  vibrations  of  the  vocal 
cords  by  the  cavities  of  the  nose  and  mouth.  This  was 
clearly  demonstrated  by  Professor  Rood,  of  New  York,  in  his 
popular  lectures  on  the  voice,  in  which  he  shows  a  serviceable 
set  of  vocal  cords  made  from  a  sheet  of  rubber.  These  by 
blowing  through  them  will  howl  most  dismally ;  then  by 
placing  this  sheet  of  rubber  in  different  shaped  pipes,  through 
which  air  is  forced  by  a  bellows,  it  can  be  made  to  utter  very 
distinct  sounds,  and  even  cry  out  Pa-pa  in  a  way  that  would 
call  a  loving  father  out  of  bed  on  the  coldest  winter  night. 
The  French  dolls  that  say  Ma-ma  when  squeezed  are  made 
on  the  same  principle.  Professor  Kemplon,  of  Vienna, 
has  further  practically  applied  the  principle  so  that  he  has 
invented  a  machine  which  speaks  not  only  syllables,  but 
whole  words  and  sentences.  A  Mr.  Faber  has  done  still  bet- 
ter, having  invented  a  singing  machine  which  runs  up  and 
down  the  scale  ;  and  perhaps  the  time  will  come  when  the 
church  will  order  a  choir  of  these  along  with  their  organ, 
and  thus  put  an  end  to  those  everlasting  squabbles  which  make 
miserable  the  life  of  the  music  committee — unless  Dr.  Tourjee 
brings  in  the  millennium  by  congregational  singing  before 
that  time.  All  these  artificial  singing  and  talking  ma- 
chines are,  however,  cumbersome  and  intricate  comj^ared 
with  ours,  which  is  held  in  a  space  hardly  larger  than  your 
two  thumbs.  It  is,  to  be  sure,  a  single  pipe-organ,  but  Von 
Kamper  has  proven  that  with  a  single  pipe  only  fourteen 
stops  are  necessary  for  speech  ;  namely,  those  represent- 
ing the  vowels  and  1,  r,  w,  f,  s,  b,  d,  g,  sch,  which 
by  the  aid  of  the  tongue,  lips,  and  lungs  can  give  forth  an 
almost  infinite  variety  of  sounds.  According  to  Scripture, 
our  voices  ought  to  be    as  "  one  who  playeth  well  on   an  in- 


The  Daughters  of  Music.  171 

strument,"  or  "  as  a  very  lovely  song  of  one  that  hath  a 
pleasant  voice,"  for  there  is  no  music  so  sweet  as  a  properly 
modulated,  human  voice.  Unfortunately,  in  this  country  the 
vocal  chords  seem  to  be  generally  out  of  tune,  for  the  harsh, 
shrill,  nasal  American  voice  is  the  butt  of  the  civilized  stasre. 
There  is  an  intenseness  and  a  "  concert  pitch  "  to  the  voice 
of  the  average  American  young  lady  that  goes  through  the 
ears  of  an  educated  foreigner  like  a  knife,  for  there  is  a  soft- 
ness and  gentle  modulation  to  the  feminine  voice  abroad  that 
is  exceedingly  enjoyable.  The  shrillness  of  the  average 
American  voice  is  due  in  part  to  habit,  for  its  high  pitch  can 
be  lowered  by  carefulness,  but  its  original  cause  may  be 
found  in  the  dryness  of  our  climate  as  compared  with  Europe. 
We  have,  it  is  true,  as  large  a  rainfall,  but  the  wind  springs 
up  as  soon  as  the  rain  is  over,  and  dries  out  the  moisture  from 
the  atmosphere,  so  that  cabinet  work  made  on  the  other  side 
of  the  water  soon  drops  to  pieces  in  America.  This  quality 
in  the  atmosphere  tends  to  beget  a  restlessness  which  never 
fails  to  attract  the  attention  of  a  foreigner.  The  same  cause 
produces  nasal  catarrh,  so  frequent  in  this  country,  and  sooner 
or  later  affects  the  quality  of  the  voice  also.  Possibly  the 
presence  of  ozone  in  our  atmosphere  has  also  something  to 
do  with  the  timbre  of  the  American  voice,  for  experiments 
recently  carried  on  in  Paris  show  that  the  inhalation  of  vari- 
ous volatile  substances  will  change  the  quality  of  the  human 
voice.  Dr.  Sandras  found  that  he  could  in  this  way  produce 
the  characteristic  voice  of  the  drunkard  and  remove  it  tem- 
porarily at  will,  as  well  as  alter  the  pitch  of  the  voice  and 
its  range  also.  "  Tar- water,  alcohol,  ether,  and  the  oils 
employed  for  this  purpose  are  not  new  ;  it  is  only  their 
application  which  may  be  said  to  be  novel.  The  most 
curious  part  of  the  experiments  is  the  accuracy  with  which 
certain  well-defined  effects  are  said  to  be  obtained.  Thus,  a 
certain  number  of  inhalations  of  one  kind  will  diminish  the 
compass  by  so  many  notes,  while  another  will  confer  an 
additional  eight  <>r  ten  ;  some  even  limit  the  range  to  five  or 
six  notes." 


172  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

It  is  claimed  by  some  that  the  quality  of  the  Italian  voice 
is  due  to  the  presence  of  ammonia  in  the  air  of  Italy,  and  an 
enterprising  Yankee  has  actually  invented  and  patented 
an  ammoniaphone,  which  it  is  hoped  will  transform  the 
native  harshness  of  the  American  voice  to  the  sweetness 
of  a  Patti's.  Speed  the  day  !  but,  as  his  progress  as  yet  seems 
discouragingly  slow,  the  best  thing  that  can  be  done  in  the 
interval  is  to  use  the  voice  naturally  and  give  it  a  fair  op- 
portunity to  work  untrammeled.  Tight  collars  have  more 
to  do  with  clergymen's  sore  throats  than  continuous  speak- 
ing, provided  the  voice  be  used  in  natural  speaking,  not 
preaching,  with  its  artificial  intonations.  During  public 
speaking  the  neck  expands  an  inch  or  more,  from  the  surplus 
of  blood  required  for  the  brain  and  vocal  cords.  At  such 
a  time  an  ordinary  collar  becomes  too  tight,  and  congests 
the  throat  and  neck  and  head  so  that  the  unconventional 
circuit  rider  of  the  earlier  day  would,  as  he  spoke,  divest 
himself  of  cravat  and  collar  and  speak  at  his  best  with  bared 
neck. 

"  Women,"  says  H.  L.  Hastings,  "  go  with  their  necks 
bare  and  men  keep  theirs  swathed  and  bandaged,  and  ten 
women  have  sweet  voices  where  one  man  has  one.  A  man's 
voice  should  be  as  pure  as  a  woman's.  Why  is  it  not  ?  He 
is  shaved  and  choked.  God  has  provided  a  covering  for 
man's  throat — light  and  soft,  it  clothes  the  neck  and  pre- 
serves the  health  ;  but  a  man  gets  a  sharp  iron,  scrapes  his 
neck,  ties  a  rag  around  it,  takes  cold,  has  sore  throat,  bron- 
chitis, and  consumption,  and  dies."  Or  if  it  does  not  come 
to  that  he  finds  himself  afflicted  with  a  chronic  sore  throat 
and  a  perpetual  sniffing  and  hawking,  which  makes  him  an 
easy  prey  to  all  of  the  brethren  "  late  in  the  ministry  "  who 
have  a  sure  cure  for  catarrh.  Loose  collars,  frequent  bathing 
of  the  neck  with  cold  water,  and  the  exercise  of  care  to 
avoid  getting  chilled  will  do  more  for  the  radical  cure  of 
catarrh  than  all  the  inhalers  ever  advertised,  unless  the 
congestion  of  the  nose  has  proceeded  to  chronic  disease  of 
the  turbinated  bones. 


The  Daughters  of  Music.  173 

These  are  two  scroll-shaped  bones,  situated  at  the  back  of 
the  nose,  very  light  and  spongy,  because  filled  with  cavities 
which  communicate  with  the  interior  of  the  nose,  and  are 
lined  with  the  same  mucous  membrane  (ciliated).  Above 
and  to  the  front  of  these  turbinated  bones,  about  on  the  level 
with  the  upper  part  of  the  nose,  is  a  delicate  perforated  plate 
of  bone  (cribriform)  through  which  the  olfactory  nerve 
sends  innumerable  filaments  to  the  mucous  membrane  of 
this  and  the  surrounding  parts  of  the  nose.  By  these  we  are 
enabled  to  smell,  a  faculty  which  requires  that  the  air  con- 
taining the  odorous  particles  must  find  its  way  up  the  nose 
to  the  cribriform  plate,  and  there  make  its  impression  upon 
the  terminal  fibers  of  the  olfactory  nerve.  These  odors  may 
pass  directly  up  from  the  mouth  or  through  the  nostrils, 
where  the  process  is  assisted  by  sniffing,  or  drawing  by  a 
sudden  inspiration,  these  odoriferous  particles  further  up 
into  the  nose.  If,  however,  the  turbinated  bones  are  swollen, 
as  takes  place  in  recent  colds  or  chronic  catarrh,  the  passage 
upward  of  the  fragrant  air  is  impeded  and  the  sense  of  smell 
is  either  partially  or  entirely  lost. 

The  organs  of  smell  are  not  as  fully  developed  in  man  as 
in  some  of  the  lower  animals,  notably  insects  and  certain 
fishes  ;  the  shark,  for  instance,  having  no  less  than  twelve 
square  feet  of  olfactory  organs.  The  faculty  of  scent  may 
be  cultivated  like  all  other  faculties,  as  is  proven  by  blood- 
hounds and  breeds  of  dogs  which  have  been  especially  trained 
in  this  direction  until  it  becomes  an  hereditary  faculty.  Those 
who  deal  in  teas,  coffees,  perfumes,  wine,  and  butter  often 
cultivate  their  powers  to  a  wonderful  degree  in  their  especial 
lines,  but  with  the  majority  of  people  it  is  the  least  culti- 
vated of  the  senses,  although  O.  W.  Holmes  thinks  it  the 
one  which  most  powerfully  appeals  to  memory.  Professor 
Valentine  has  recently  tested  the  delicacy  of  the  sense  of 
smell  in  regard  to  various  odorous  substances,  and  found 
"  that  a  current  of  air  containing  1-30,000  milligram  of 
bromine,  or  1-500,000  milligram  of  sulphureted  hydrogen, 
or  1-2,000,000  milligram  of  oil  of  roses  can  be  perceived  by 


174:  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

the  sense  of  smell.  He  also  determined  that  the  amount  of 
odoriferous  air  which  must  pass  over  the  olfactory  membrane 
in  order  to  excite  the  sense  of  smell  was  from  50  to  100 
cubic  centimeters  (one  tenth  to  one  fifth  of  a  pint).  He  cal- 
culated, therefore,  that  the  actual  amount  of  bromine  neces- 
sary to  excite  a  sense  of  smell  was  1-600  milligram  ;  of 
sulphureted  hydrogen,  1-5,000  milligram  ;  of  oil  of  roses, 
1-20,000  milligram  (about  1-120,000  of  a  grain).  Two  recent 
experimenters,  E.  Fischer  and  F.  Pentzoldt,  of'Erlangen,  have 
found  two  other  substances  which  far  exceed  the  foregoing 
in  their  capacity  for  affecting  the  olfactory  nerves.  These 
were  mercaptan  (sulphureted  alcohol)  and  chlorphenol.  They 
found  that  in  air  containing  1-230,000,000  milligram  to  the 
cubic  centimeter  of  chlorphenol,  and  1-23,000,000,000  mil- 
ligram of  mercaptan,  these  substances  can  be  appreciated, 
and  it  was  estimated  that  only  1-4,600,000  milligram  of 
chlorphenol  and  1-460,000,000  milligram  of  mercaptan  is 
necessary  to  excite  a  sensation  of  smell.  There  exists,  there- 
fore, a  substance  which  in  so  small  a  subdivision  as  1-2,760,- 
000,000  grain,  or  not  far  from  one  three-billionth  of  a  grain,  is 
capable  of  calling  out  a  nerve  impulse.  This  subdivision  of 
matter  is  quite  beyond  comprehension,  yet  the  nose  alone 
can  appreciate  it.  The  smallest  subdivision  appreciable  by 
the  eye  through  the  spectroscope  is  1-1,400,000  milligram  of 
sodium,  which  is  a  250  times  coarser  division  of  matter  than 
the  minimum  of  odor-exciting  merca]3tan.'" 

Contrary  to  general  belief,  the  sense  of  smell  is  more  acute 
in  man  than  in  woman,  for  the  experiments  of  Nicolls  and 
Bailey  have  proved  this  beyond  a  reasonable  doubt.  Their 
experiments  were  made  by  means  of  a  series  of  solutions  of 
oil  of  cloves,  extract  of  garlic,  and  prussic  acid,  which  were 
successively  diluted  and  then  submitted  to  a  number  of  per- 
sons of  both  sexes  in  order  to  classify  properly  their  sense  of 
smelling.  The  result  showed  conclusively  that  the  sense  of 
smell  was  generally  much  more  delicate  in  males  than  in 
females,  but  that  the  degree  of  acuteness  had  a  wide  indi- 
vidual variation;  thus  some  were  able  to  detect  one  part  of 


The  Daughters  of  Music.  175 

prussic  acid  to  two  million  parts  of  water,  a  dilution  too  weak 
to  be  detected  by  any  chemical  test,  while  others  of  both 
sexes  were  unable  to  detect  prussic  acid  in  solutions  of 
dangerous  strength. 

While  it  is  possible  for  disease  to  be  introduced  into  the 
system  through  the  nasal  organs,  as  a  rule  they  are  our  best 
protection  against  toxic  vapors.  Doubtless  the  sense  of  smell 
becomes  weary  by  continued  exposure  to  unpleasant  odors, 
but  fortunately  most  of  these  are  disagreeable  rather  than 
dangerous.  With  rare  exception  those  employed  at  work  in 
the  rank  odors  of  a  fertilizing  factory  or  a  fish-rendering  es- 
tablishment enjoy  comparatively  good  health,  provided  respi- 
ration is  carried  on  through  the  nose.  It  may  even  be  fairly 
questioned  whether  the  perfume  of  flowers  is  not  as  mis- 
chievous as  those  from  such  factories.  Says  a  recent  writer 
on  this  subject,  "  The  odors  of  flowers  in  a  closed  chamber 
of  limited  space,  especially  during  the  night,  manifest  them- 
selves by  serious  disorders,  such  as  headache,  syncope,  and 
even  by  asphyxia,  if  their  action  is  too  prolonged.  In  nerv- 
ous persons  numbness  may  occur  in  all  the  members,  con- 
vulsions, and  loss  of  voice;  but  in  general  only  a  state  of  som- 
nolence, accompanied  by  feebleness  and  retardation  of  the 
action  of  the  heart.  This  state  is  often  associated  with  well- 
marked  dimness  of  vision.  Among  the  flowers  that  are  most 
deleterious  may  be  mentioned  the  lily,  hyacinth,  narcissus, 
crocus,  rose,  carnation,  honeysuckle,  jasmine,  violet,  elder,  etc. 
In  addition  to  the  danger  caused  by  their  smell  should  be 
mentioned  their  action  on  the  air.  During  the  night  flowers 
actively  produce  carbonic  acid,  which  is  injurious  to  health. 
Majendie  cites  a  case  of  death  caused  by  a  large  bouquet  of 
lilies  which  the  sufferer,  a  previously  healthy  woman,  allowed 
to  remain  in  her  bed-room  while  she  slept.  Among  the  more 
dangerous  plants  may  be  mentioned  the  walnut,  the  bay-tree, 
and  the  hern]).  The  action  of  these  is  well  known,  the  latter, 
indeed,  producing  a  kind  of  drunkenness.  Certain  drugs 
may  even  produce  death  by  the  inhalation  of  their  vapors 
only  ;  noticeable  among  these  are  the  so-called   anaesthetic 


176  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

vapors,  prussic  and  osmic  acid.     At  a  session  of  the  French 

Academy  of  Sciences,  some  years  ago,  a  noted  French  chemist 

presented  to  that  body  a  small  tin  box  containing,  according 

to  his  statement,  enough  osmic  acid  to  kill  every  inhabitant 

of  the  city  of  Paris  provided  the  package  was  broken.     The 

sense  of  smell  is  sometimes  so  intensified  that  with  certain 

persons  it  produces  the  effects  of  intoxication,  so  that  Pope's 

lines. 

"  Die  of  a  rose  in  aromatic  pain 

By  swift  effluvia  darting  through  the  brain," 

was  almost  realized  in  the  case  of  Grebry,  the  composer,  and 
Anne  of  Austria,  upon  whom  the  odor  of  roses  produced 
poisonous  effects.  There  is  also  on  record  a  well-authenti- 
cated case  of  a  man  falling  down  in  strong  convulsions  at 
the  smell  of  mutton,  and  the  writer  is  personally  acquainted 
with  cases  where  intense  nausea  is  produced  whenever  a  cat 
is  admitted  into  the  room,  and  another  where  similar  effects 
are  produced  by  the  odor  of  caraway  seeds.  Handling 
ipecac  with  many  druggists  produces  attacks  closely  resem- 
bling hay  fever,  which  by  the  way  is  now  generally  believed 
to  be  excited  by  the  microscopic  pollen  of  certain  weeds 
floating  in  the  air.  Per  contra,  Hahnemann,  during  the  last 
years  of  his  life,  taught  that  all  diseases  could  be  cured  by 
olfaction,  or  the  smelling  of  certain  medicated  sugar  glob- 
ules. Unfortunately,  his  hopes  have  not  been  realized,  and 
the  nose  serves  us  only  as  an  organ  for  the  enjoyment  of 
sweet  odors  and  the  utilization  of  pocket-handkerchiefs. 

The  reason  why  it  was  necessary,  as  says  the  old  song,  for 
Nancy  "to  wipe  her  apron  with  the  corner  of  her  eye"  when 
the  sad  news  of  her  true  lover's  death  came  is  that  just  there, 
on  the  outer  side  of  the  eye,  the  tear-factory,  or  the  lachry- 
mal gland,  is  situated.  On  the  outer  and  upper  margin  of 
the  eye  we  find  this  gland,  which  is  about  the  size  of  an 
almond,  kept  constantly  at  work  pouring  out  its  fluid  and 
spreading  it  by  means  of  seven  minute  canals  over  the  surface 
of  the  eye.  Thus  the  eye  is  kept  bathed  and  freed  from  dust, 
and  so  important  is  this  work  done  by  the  lachrymal  gland 


The  Daughters  of  Music.  177 

that  if,  for  any  reason,  it  is  unable  to  perform  its  duty  the 
eye  grows  opaque  and  loses  its  sight  ;  so  that  all  are  not 
"tears,  idle  tears,"  though  there  must  have  been  many 
such  in  Rome,  if  the  Roman  ladies  ever  filled  the  "  tear 
jugs"  which  are  found  there  in  almost  every  tomb.  Ours 
are  disposed  of  in  a  much  less  romantic  way.  If  there  are 
too  many  for  the  eye  to  hold  comfortably  they  trickle  over 
the  lids  down  the  cheeks  ;  but  ordinarily  they  find  their  way 
out  by  means  of  a  couple  of  little  passages  of  their  own  into 
the  nose.  If  you  will  turn  down  the  lid  you  will  find  near 
its  inner  corner  a  little  black  spot  on  its  inner  margin.  Xow, 
if  you  had  a  very  fine  silver  probe  you  would  find  that  it 
would  enter  a  little  canal,  and,  by  some  dexterous  turnings, 
you  could  at  last  bring  out  this  probe  near  the  floor  of  the 
nostrils,  and  this  is  the  course  that  the  tears  usually  take; 
hence  the  sudden  desire  for  a  pocket-handkerchief  when  our 
feelings  begin  to  melt. 

Retracing  our  steps,  let  us  return  to  what  the  poets  call 
"  the  curtained  windows  of  the  ivory  palace  of  the  soul."  This 
is  poetical.  Facts  are  better  expressed  by  saying  that  the 
eye  is  an  optical  instrument  admirably  adapted  for  the  use 
of  "those  that  look  out  at  the  windows."  We  find  it  amply 
protected  from  injury  by  the  fluids  already  spoken  of,  the 
eyelids,  and  the  eyebrows.  The  latter  act  as  a  screen,  or 
as  the  gutters  on  a  roof,  to  turn  aside  fluid  or  dust  which  other- 
wise might  find  its  way  into  the  eye.  The  eyebrows  further- 
more contain  several  small  muscles,  which  act  both  voluntarily 
and  involuntarily  to  protect  the  eyes  from  harm  by  narrowing 
the  opening  over  them.  This  is  more  perfectly  accomplished 
by  means  of  the  eyelids,  which  are  two  movable  shutters 
made  to  close  at  will  over  the  eye.  The  rapid  involuntary 
motion  of  these  constitutes  winking,  which  is  designed  by 
the  aid  of  the  eyelashes  to  beat  back  insects  or  dust  which 
would  otherwise  find  their  way  into  the  eye  proper.  This, 
known  as  the  eyeball,  is  a  round  body  a  little  more  than  an 
inch  in  diameter,  made  up  of  several  layers  or  coatings,  and 
securely  lodged  in  its  own  bony  chamber  or  orbit,     In  the 


178  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

back  part  of  the  orbit  we  find  an  opening  through  which 
the  optic  nerve  passes  clown  from  the  brain  and  perforates 
the  back  part  of  the  eye  a  little  to  the  inner  side,  where  it 
spreads  out  at  the  back  of  the  eyeball  through  a  thin  mem- 
brane called  the  retina.  This  is  at  no  point  more  than 
one  eightieth  of  an  inch  in  thickness,  and  represents  the 
sensitive  plate  used  in  a  photographers  shop.  The  retina  is 
sometimes  called  the  third  coat,  or  tunic,  of  the  eye,  resting 
behind  on  the  choroid,  or  second  coat,  hereafter  to  be  de- 
scribed, and  in  front  lying  in  immediate  contact  with  a  jelly- 
like fluid  known  as  the  vitreous  humor.  The  retina  itself, 
then,  is  an  exceedingly  delicate  membrane,  which,  under  the 
microscope,  can  be  divided  into  several  distinct  layers.  At 
its  back,  that  is,  nearest  to  the  orbit,  are  nerve  fibers  and  cor- 
puscles. (See  Chapter  VIII).  Above  this  we  find  what  has 
been  called  the  layer  of  rods  and  cones,  minute,  rod-like,  and 
conical  bodies  standing  perpendicularly  to  the  plane  of  the  re- 
tina. These  rods  and  cones  occupy  the  anterior  quarter  of  the 
retina,  standing  above  the  connective  tissue  which  binds  it  to 
the  choroid,  and  placing  the  nerve  fibers  and  vessels  to  the 
front.  It  should  be  understood,  therefore,  that  the  rods  and 
cones  are  not  really  modifications  of  the  nerve  tissue,  but  of 
the  membrane  through  which  this  is  interspersed.  This  is 
best  shown  at  what  is  known  as  the  yellow  spot  (macula 
lutea,  a  circular  depression  of  a  yellowish  color  about  the 
middle  of  the  retina),  near  wdiich  is  the  point  of  entrance 
for  the  optic  nerve,  whence  it  spreads  its  fibers  into  the  retina 
proper.  At  this  point  of  entrance  the  nerve  fibers  predomi- 
nate, and  the  rods  and  cones  are  absent,  while  at  the  yellow 
spot  the  cones  are  abundant  and  close-set,  while  the  rods  are 
scanty,  and  found  only  toward  its  margin.  The  exact  use 
to  which  these  rods  and  cones  are  applied  is  not  definitely 
known  further  than  that  it  is  their  function  to  transform  the 
waves  of  light  into  the  impression  which  we  know  as  sight. 
This  sensation  takes  place  in  the  brain,  for  a  hard  blow  on 
the  back  of  the  head  will  make  us  see  stars,  although  it  be 
broad  daylight. 


The  Daughters  of  Music.  179 

Similarly,  irritation  or  galvanization  of  the  optic  nerve  will 
produce  the  sensation  of  light  even  though  the  eye  and  the 
retina  are  destroyed.  Light,  says  Huxley,  falling  on 
the  optic  nerve  does  not  excite  it;  "  the  fibers  of  the  optic 
nerve  in  themselves  are  as  blind  as  any  other  part  of  the 
body."  But  just  as  the  delicate  filaments  of  the  ear  and  the 
fibers  of  Corti  are  contrivances  for  converting  the  vibration 
of  the  fluids  of  the  ear,  so  the  vibration  of  the  fluids  of  the 
eye  may  be  similarly  converted  into  the  sensation  of  light 
and  color.  "  There  is,"  says  Professor  Barret,  "  a  striking 
analogy  between  music  and  color;  the  rate  of  vibration  in 
sound  gave  rise  to  the  gamut,  and  in  colors  the  rate  of  vibra- 
tion in  like  manner  gave  rise  to  the  notes  forming  the  spec- 
trum. The  colors  of  the  spectrum  showed  a  sequence  analo- 
gous to  the  sequence  of  pitch  in  the  gamut.  Newton  thought 
that  there  might  "  be  a  correspondence  between  the  length  of 
the  spectrum  colors  and  the  vibrations  of  musical  sounds,  but 
the  true  relationship  was  between  the  vibrating  pitch  of  color 
and  the  vibrating  pitch  of  sound.  The  extreme  limits  of  the 
spectrum  embraced  an  octave  in  music.  Calling  red  100,  the 
proportionate  vibration  of  orange  was  89,  that  of  yellow  81, 
that  of  green  75,  that  of  blue  69,  that  of  indigo  64,  that  of 
violet  60,  that  of  ultra-violet  53,  and  an  obscure  or  extreme 
violet  50.  The  vibration  of  C  in  music  corresponded  to  that 
of  red  in  color,  and  taking  C  as  100,  the  vibration  of  D  was 
89,  that  of  E  80,  that  of  F  74,  that  of  G  67,  that  of  A  60, 
that  of  B  53,  and  that  of  C  50.  The  vibration  of  unison, 
rendered  visible,  produced  on  a  screen  the  figure  of  a  circle, 
that  of  an  octave  formed  a  figure  resembling  8,  and  combina- 
tions of  figure  formed  by  the  visible  reflection  of  intervals  of 
a  fourth,  a  sixth,  etc.,  were  proportionately  complicated." 

The  sensibility  of  the  different  portions  of  the  retina  to  color 
and  light  varies  very  greatly.  At  the  entrance  of  the  optic 
nerve  the  retina  is  absolutely  blind,  but  elsewhere  light  and 
color  impressions  have  a  duration  of  their  own.  About  an 
eighth  of  a  second  is  required  for  the  first  of  these,  so  that 
impressions  of  light  which   follow  each  other   more   rapidly 


180  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

than  an  eighth  of  a  second  are  practically  continuous.  A 
striking  illustration  of  this  may  sometimes  be  seen  in  riding 
rapidly  past  a  board  fence  in  which  there  are  numerous  per- 
pendicular cracks.  Through  each  of  these  the  eye  gets  but  a 
passing  glimpse,  but  these  succeed  each  other  so  rapidly  that 
to  all  appearance  the  fence  is  abolished,  and  we  can  see  almost 
as  plainly  what  is  beyond  it  as  if  no  fence  were  there.  The 
excitability  of  the  retina  is,  however,  soon  exhausted,  for 
continued  gazing  at  a  bright  light  quickly  exhausts  the  sus- 
ceptibility of  that  part  of  the  retina  upon  which  its  rays  have 
fallen.  Turning  now  from  the  bright  light  and  looking  to- 
ward a  light  surface  you  find  a  dark  spot  corresponding  to 
the  bright  one  just  looked  upon.  If  the  bright  light  be  of 
one  color  the  retina  becomes  exhausted  for  that  tint  only,  but 
may  recognize  other  colors.  Each  color  has  what  is  known 
as  its  complementary  color,  and  these  are  those  which  will  be 
seen  in  the  image  produced  by  this  temporary  blindness  of 
the  retina;  for  instance,  if  a  red  cross  be  made  upon  a  sheet 
of  white  paper  and  steadily  gazed  upon  for  a  while  with  one 
eye,  and  then  this  turned  to  look  upon  a  page  of  perfectly 
white  paper  there  will  be  apparently  seen  upon  this  a  green 
cross  of  exactly  the  same  size  and  shape  as  the  red  one  just 
looked  upon,  although  somewhat  less  distinct  in  outline. 

Boll,  a  recent  observer,  thinks  that  the  ability  of  the  retina 
to  recognize  hues  is  due  to  a  peculiar  red  color,  which  is  con- 
stantly being  destroyed  by  the  influence  of  light  and  is  as  con- 
stantly being  regenerated  by  the  ordinary  processes  of  nutri- 
tion. The  "vision  red"  or  " erythopsin,"  as  its  discoverer 
names  it,  attains  its  maximum  after  a  night's  rest  and  sleep, 
or  when  an  animal  has  been  kept  for  some  hours  in  darkness; 
it  is  soluble  in  solutions  of  the  biliary  acids  and  in  glycerine, 
and  probably  plays  a  part  in  the  production  of  the  red  reflec- 
tion from  the  fundus  of  the  eye  seen  by  the  opthalmoscope. 
Possibly  the  loss  of  erythopsin  constitutes  the  color-blindness 
whose  more  common  form  is  that  caused  by  the  absence  of 
perception  of  one  of  the  three  fundamental  colors.  These 
are  mentioned  in  the  order  of  their  comparative  frequency; 


The  Daughters  of  Music.  181 

namely,  where  the  elementary  sensation  corresponding  to  red 
is  wanting;  next,  the  absence  or  imperfect  perception  of 
green;  and  third,  of  blue  or  violet.  It  will  be  noticed  as  a 
remarkable  fact  that  the  first  two  colors  are  those  now  used 
to  make  up  the  entire  code  of  railway  signals,  and  that  this 
defect  for  red  occurs  more  frequently  than  for  any  other 
color.  This  is  an  item  of  the  greatest  importance  in  railway 
and  vessel  management,  since  red  is  almost  always  used  for 
the  danger  signal.  To  add  still  further  to  the  deceptive  and 
dangerous  character  of  these  defects,  there  are  quite  a  number 
of  persons  who  are  unable  to  distinguish  between  the  pri- 
mary colors  at  night,  while  their  perception  or  sensation  of 
color  by  daylight  is  apparently  perfect.  Again,  there  is 
another  defect,  which  is  an  inability  to  distinguish  between 
or  to  recognize  the  primary  colors  at  certain  distances,  vary- 
ing more  or  less  in  individuals.  This  was  found  to  be  the 
most  difficult  of  all  defects  to  detect  by  the  ordinary  tests  for 
color-blindness. 

On  account  of  the  importance  of  color  blindness,  in  relation 
to  the  danger  signals  on  railroads  and  steamboats,  it  is  usual  to 
test  all  those  wishing  for  employment  by  means  of  the  match- 
ing various  colored  worsteds.  Samples  of  various  colors 
are  given  to  the  one  on  trial,  which  he  endeavors  to  match. 
Examinations  show,  among  men  at  least,  one  out  of  every 
fifty  defective,  and  many  to  a  degree  that  unfits  them  for 
any  service  requiring  accuracy  in  the  percerjtion  of  colors. 
The  defect  is  often  congenital,  but  is  also  known  to  be 
caused  by  alcohol  or  tobacco,  and  by  some  forms  of  mental 
disease. 

Besides  color-blindness  the  eye  is  subject  to  various  de- 
fects inherited  and  acquired,  such  as  squint,  myopia,  presby- 
opia. Squint  or  cross  eyes  are  where  their  axes  do  not  corre- 
spond, so  that  vision  is  practiced  with  one  eye  instead  of  two. 
Squinting  is  often  a  bad  habit,  which,  as  soon  as  observed, 
should  be  obviated  by  using  the  eyes  one  at  a  time,  and  look- 
ing with  each  in  a  direction  opposite  to  that  toward  which 
it  inclines,  or  using  the  affected  eye  a  little  from  time  to  time 


182  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

with  the  finger  extended  over  the  nose  as  an  additional 
septum  to  increase  its  height. 

Myopia,  or  near-sightedness,  is  most  frequently  found  in 
students  and  school-children,  and  is  caused  by  poor  light, 
poor  printing,  either  in  regard  to  the  size  of  the  type  or  color 
of  the  paper;  improper  ventilation;  faulty  positions  while 
studying;  whatever  tends  to  produce  any  congestion  about 
the  head,  and  lowering  the  vitality  from  any  cause  what- 
ever. 

Dr.  Andrews  says  on  this  subject:  "In  early  life  the  tis- 
sues are  soft.  Some  eyes  are  believed  to  have  a  more  yield- 
ing or  plastic  tissue  than  others.  The  extensible,  sclerotic 
coat  becomes  stretched.  The  yielding  occurs  most  at  the 
rear  of  the  eye-ball,  which  thus  becomes  elongated.  So  the 
retina  is  moved  behind  the  best  locality  for  focalizing.  No 
doubt  this  exists  sometimes  as  an  inheritance  or  an  anatom- 
ical defect.  But  far  of tener  it  is  a  yielding  caused  by  the 
improper  use  of  the  eye. 

"  The  act  of  accommodation  of  the  eye  is,  by  nature,  one  of 
slight  but  of  healthy  tension.  But  if  constantly  overdrawn, 
or  if  the  tissue  of  the  eye  is  flabby  or  not  sufficiently  resist- 
ant, the  form  is  changed  so  as  to  become  a  serious  defect. 
The  child  that  uses  the  eye  too  early  or  too  much  in  study, 
or  with  wrong  type  or  books,  or  when  the  general  health  is 
not  good,  or  too  soon  after  recovery  from  sickness,  or  in 
overheated  or  foul  air,  or  in  too  great  a  glare,  or  with  defi- 
ciency of  light,  is  too  likely  to  give  a  training  to  the  eye 
which  secures  for  it  more  or  less  imperfection  of  vision." 

Some  practical  hints  for  the  care  of  the  eyes  may  be  found 
at  the  close  of  the  present  chapter,  in  which,  if  space 
allowed,  it  would  be  interesting  to  attempt  to  solve  the  ques- 
tion Avhether  sight,  or  perception  of  the  form  of  external  ob- 
jects, is  possible  in  any  other  way  than  by  the  eyes.  It  would 
open  a  long  and  difficult  theme  for  discussion,  but  in  the 
midst  of  much  willful  deception  on  the  part  of  clairvoy- 
ants and  mind-readers  it  seems  clearly  proven  that  som- 
nambulists,   or    sleep-walkers,    go    wherever    they    please 


The  Daughters  of  Music.  183 

without  hesitation,  read  and  write,  and  give  ample  evidence 
of  a  power  of  perception  independent  of  the  usual  organs  of 
vision.  Persons  subject  to  attacks  of  catalepsy  frequently 
show  the  same  peculiarity.  M.  Despine,  late  inspector  of 
the  mineral  waters  of  Aix,  in  Savoy,  mentions  the  following 
among  many  other  cases  :  "Not  only  could  our  patient  hear 
by  means  of  the  palm  of  her  hand,  but  we  have  seen  her 
read  without  the  assistance  of  the  eyes,  merely  with  the  tips 
of  the  fingers,  which  she  passed  rapidly  over  the  page  that 
she  wished  to  read.  At  other  times  Ave  have  seen  her  select 
from  a  parcel  of  more  than  thirty  letters  the  one  which  she 
was  required  to  pick  out  ;  also,  write  several  letters,  and 
correct  on  reading  them  over  again,  always  with  her  finger 
ends,  the  mistakes  she  had  made  ;  copy  one  letter,  word  for 
word,  reading  it  with  her  left  elbow,  while  she  wrote  with 
her  right  hand.  During  these  proceedings  a  thick  paste- 
board completely  intercepted  any  visual  ray  that  might  have 
reached  her  eyes.  The  same  phenomenon  was  manifested  at 
the  soles  of  her  feet,  on  the  epigastrium,  and  other  parts  of 
the  body,  where  a  sensation  of  pain  was  produced  by  the 
mere  touch."  Persons  who  have  become  blind  have  also 
been  known  to  acquire  the  same  power,  for  example  :  Har- 
riet Martineau  tells  of  an  old  lady  who  had  been  blind  from 
her  birth,  and  yet  saw  in  her  sleep,  and  in  her  waking  state 
described,  the  color  of  the  clothing  of  individuals  correctly. 
In  these  cases,  no  doubt,  perception  is,  as  usual,  in  the  brain ; 
but  either  all  the  nerves  of  the  surface  have  the  power  of 
conveying  the  impressions  of  light  to  that  organ,  or  some 
special  parts  of  the  body,  as  the  ends  of  the  fingers,  the 
occiput,  or  the  epigastrium,  assume  the  office  of  the  eves. 

These  phenomena  might  be  explained  by  the  heightened 
muscular  sense  spoken  of  previously.  In  their  last  analysis 
all  sense  perceptions  are  some  form  of  touch.  But  the  eye 
is  also  a  well-constructed  optical  instrument,  for  without 
taking  further  time  to  describe  minutely  all  the  parts  of  the 
eye — and  it  is  most  daintily  put  together — please  to  remember 
that  it  is  essentially  a  water  camera.     The  sclerotic  is  the 


184  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

box,  the  cornea  and  crystalline  lens  are  the  lenses,  and  the 
retina  the  plate  on  which  the  picture  falls,  upside  down, 
too,  just  as  you  have  noticed  it  at  the  photographers  ;  but 
we  have  been  so  used  to  seeing  things  upside  down  that 
when  we  do  see  them  right  side  up  they  look  just  the  other 
way.  This  and  some  other  minor  defects  so  provoked  a 
crabbed  pedantic  German  optician,  that  he  declared  lately 
that  if  the  eye  was  brought  to  him  as  an  optical  instrument 
he  would  throw  it  away  on  account  of  its  many  faults. 
If  this  is  so,  it  is  a  great  pity  that  he  was  not  consulted  before 
our  eyes  were  made  ;  for  unfortunately  a  poor  eye  cannot  be 
made  as  good  as  new.  Moreover,  good  care  must  be  taken 
of  the  "  blue  seas,"  "  dark  pools,"  "  lode  stars,"  or  whatever 
else  the  poets  may  call  them  ;  these  willing  servants  must 
not  be  overtaxed.  Nature  gives  you  fair  warning  when  you 
are  doing  this,  and  just  as  soon  as  the  eyes  begin  to  feel 
tired  give  them  rest,  even  if  you  are  only  two  pages  distant 
from  the  blissful  marriage  of  the  heroine.  Eyes  that  look  as 
if  they  were  trimmed  with  red  tape  would  take  away  half 
the  charms  of  a  Venus,  to  say  nothing  of  the  unlovely  temper 
that  it  produces  to  have  your  eyes  feel  as  if  they  were  full  of 
sticks.  For  all  of  which  reasons  take  good  care  of  these 
photographic  galleries  of  yours,  and  above  all  never  admit 
there  a  picture  which  you  would  be  unwilling  to  see  again. 
It  may  color  the  retina  but  for  the  fraction  of  a  second,  and 
then  is  gone,  as  we  think  forever  ;  but  not  so.  Its  negative 
has  only  been  laid  away  in  the  brain,  and  we  know  not  at 
what  day  or  what  hour  memory's  magical  chemicals  may 
bring  it  back  in  all  its  sickening  realities.  Finally,  heed 
Dr.  Lincoln's  directions  for  the  use  of  the  eyes,  which  are 
so  practical  and  useful  that  we  copy  them  entire  from  Dr. 
Hunt's  Hygiene: 

Kt  When  writing,  reading,  drawing,  sewing,  always  take  care 
that,  (a)  the  room  is  comfortably  cool,  and  the  feet  warm  ; 
(b)  there  is  nothing  tight  about  the  neck  ;  (c)  there  is  plenty 
of  light,  without  dazzling  the  eyes  ;  (d)  the  sun  does  not 
shine  directly  upon  the  object  you  are  at  work  upon,  or  upon 


The  Daughters  of  Music.  185 

objects  in  front  of  you  ;  (e)  the  light  does  not  come  from  in 
front ;  it  is  best  when  it  comes  over  the  left  shoulder  ;  (/) 
the  head  is  not  bent  very  much  over  the  work  ;  (//)  the  page 
is  nearly  perpendicular  to  the  line  of  sight  ;  that  is,  that  the 
line  of  the  eye  is  nearly  opposite  the  middle  of  the  page,  for 
an  object  held  slanting  is  not  seen  so  clearly  ;  (A)  that  the 
page  or  other  object  is  not  less  than  fifteen  inches  from  the 
eye  ;  (i)  in  any  case  where  the  eyes  have  any  defect,  give  up 
needlework,  drawing  of  fine  maps,  and  all  such  work,  except 
for  very  short  tasks  in  the  morning,  (j)  In  addition,  never 
study  or  write  before  breakfast  by  lamplight ;  (k)  do  not  lie 
down  when  reading  ;  (l)  if  your  eyes  are  aching  from  fire- 
light, from  looking  at  the  snow,  from  overwork,  or  other 
causes,  a  pair  of  colored  glasses  may  be  advised  to  be  used 
for  a  while  ;  (m)  never  play  tricks  with  the  eyes,  as  squinting 
or  rolling  them.  («)  The  eyes  are  often  troublesome  when 
the  stomach  is  out  of  order,  (o)  Avoid  reading  or  sewing 
by  twilight,  or  when  debilitated  by  recent  illness,  especially 
fever,  (p)  It  is  indispensable  in  all  forms  of  labor  requiring 
the  exercise  of  vision  on  minute  objects  that  the  worker 
should  rise  from  his  task  now  and  then,  take  a  few  deep  in- 
spirations with  closed  mouth  ;  stretch  the  frame  out  into  the 
most  erect  posture,  throw  the  arms  backward  and  forward, 
and  if  possible  step  to  a  window,  or  open  air,  if  only  for  a 
minute. 

To  test  for  color-blindness,  obtain  a  set  of  test  worsteds, 
which  should  be  spread  upon  a  white  cloth.  First  lay 
the  green  skein  a  little  to  one  side,  and  tell  the  subject  to 
lay  alongside  of  the  test  skein  all  the  skeins  containing  a 
shade  of  that  color  in  any  degree.  Avoid  naming  "  green  " 
to  him.  If  he  throws  out  only  shades  of  green  or  light  blues 
his  color  sense  is  normal  (C.S.N.)  and  the  test  is  completed. 
But  if  in  addition  he  throws  out  any  shade  of  gray,  or  light 
yellow,  salmon,  or  pink,  he  is  color-blind.  If  he  hesitates, 
as  if  in  doubt  about  them,  but  yet  does  not  throw  them  out, 
lie  probably  has  "  feeble  color  sense  "  (C.S.F). 


186  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

TELEGRAPHS  AND  PHONES. 

What  is  a  nerve  ?  If  you  ever  watched  a  dentist  draw 
one  out  you  will  probably  remember  that  when  it  came  it 
looked  like  nothing  as  much  as  a  little  snip  of  wet,  white 
cotton  thread.  Very  likely  you  were  provoked  that  such  a 
contemptible  little  thing  should  have  given  you  so  much 
pain,  but  if  you  put  this  thready  bit  of  nerve  beneath  a  mi- 
croscope you  will  find  it  far  different  from  any  thread  that 
ever  came  from  the  reels  of  a  Clark  or  Coates.  One  of  their 
fibers  would  look  beneath  such  a  glass  like  a  huge,  knotty 
hawser  ;  but  this  nerve  is  shut  up  in  a  smooth,  shining 
sheath.  Break  into  this  and  we  find  the  true  nerve  fibers, 
which  consist  of  tubes  made  of  a  white  substance  (of  Pur- 
kinje),  and  the  axis  cylinder,  or  gray  substance  (of  Schwann). 
This  pearly  gray  substance  is  the  really  essential  part  of 
the  nerve,  the  wire  in  this  telegraph  system,  and  all  else 
are  but  accessories  and  packing,  something  like  the  gutta 
percha  wrapped  around  the  wires  in  a  submarine  cable. 
Hence  we  find  that  wherever  we  are  to  receive  impressions, 
this  gray  substance  of  Purkinje  is  always  on  hand  to  receive 
and  transmit  these  messages,  pleasurable  or  otherwise. 

In  the  nerve  we  have  been  considering  we  have  all  the 
kinds  of  nervous  matter  that  are  known  to  us ;  namely,  the 
gray,  white,  and  their  various  sheaths.  But  these  substances 
may  be  arranged  in  very  different  ways.  We  may  have  a 
simple  nerve  fiber,  or  we  may  have  a  perfect  whorl  and  maze 
of  these  simple  nerves,  looking  so  much  like  a  tangled  spool 
of  thread  that  they  have  been  called  a  plexus,  from  plexto, 
to  weave.  • 

Again,  we  have  nervous  masses  which  are  called  ganglia, 


Telegraphs  and  Phones. 


187 


knots.  And  such  they  are,  for  they  are  really  gordian  knots 
of  the  gray  substance,  which  in  these  ganglia  takes  the  form 
of  brambly  cells,  each  containing  in  its  center  a  clot  of  our 
old  friend,  germinal  matter. 

These  ganglia,  or  nerve 
knots,  appear  to  be  in  fact 
small  brains,  placed  where 
most  needed,  and  doing  their 
peculiar  work  without  troub- 
ling the  greater  brain,  or  en- 
cephalon  ;  thus,  for  instance, 
there  are  fifteen  or  twenty 
of  these  ganglia  scattered 
through  the  heart,  and  it  is 
to  these  that  the  heart  car- 
ries its  wants,  only  in  rare 
and  dangerous  cases  appeal- 
ing to  the  higher  court  of  the 
brain  proper  for  assistance. 

These  ganglia,  plexi,  and 
simple  nerve  fibers  are  all  that 
we  find  in  the  sympathetic 
nervous  system.  (See  cut,  page  93.)  Nerves,  like  the  muscles, 
are  of  two  kinds;  namely,  those  which  act  without  our  knowl- 
edge, and  those  which  give  us  fair  warning  of  their  troubles 
and  trials.  The  involuntary  nerves  have  been  named  the 
sympathetic,  the  others  the  cerebro-spinal  system.  It  is  the 
sympathetic  system  by  which,  when  we  sleep  as  well  as  when 
we  are  awake,  we  live  and  have  our  being,  for  it  regulates 
the  work  of  the  heart  and  lungs  and  all  the  functions  of 
mere  animal  life. 

The  lowest  forms  of  animals  have  only  this  sympathetic 
nervous  system,  the  very  lowest  owning  nothing  but  a  single 
ganglion  with  two  or  more  nerves  attached.  Rising  in  the 
scale,  we  next  find  animals  with  two  or  more  of  these  nerve 
knots  about  the  mouth,  or  arranged  in  pairs  like  the  ganglia 
down  the  back  of  a  caterpillar. 


Sympathetic  ganglion  cell  from 
Klein. 


man.— 


188 


Physiology  and  Hygiene. 


But  we  have  no  right  to  despise  those  animals  which  have 
only  nerve-knots  for  brains  ;  for  to  tell  the  truth  we  are  all 
made  after  the  same  plan.  There  was  a  time  when  all  this 
wonderful  nervous  system  of  ours  consisted  of  only  two 
white  cords  wrapped  in  a  bit  of  cartilage.  After  a  little 
there  appeared  on  these  little  cords  five  tiny  swellings,  look- 
ing like  beads  on  a  string,  and  if  you  should  look  into  the 


Cross-section  of  the  skull  and  brain,  made  just  behind  the  ears,  showing  the  ven- 
tricles, corpus  callosum,  cerebrum,  and  the  longitudinal  and  transverse  sinuses  — 
Rosers'  Vademccum. 

brains  of  all  the  higher  animals  yov,  would  find  the  same  five 

swellings,  somewhat  enlarged,  to  be  sure,  and  now  we  call 

them  ganglia;  but  these  same  five  ganglia  can  be  detected 

in  almost  every  cranium.     In  the  lowest  fishes  they  lie  open, 

like  eggs  in  the  nest  of  a  bird,  but  in  our  brains  they  are 

sheltered  beneath  an  arch  which  we  call  the  hemisphere  of 

the  brain.     (See  cut  above,  which  also  shows  that  the  larger 


Telegraphs  and  Phones.  189 

brain,  like  the  rest  of  us,  is  made  of  two  halves,  so  joined 
together  by  a  strung  band  that  they  form  a  sort  of  flattened 
sphere,  rough  outside  and  smooth  inside.) 

The  heads  into  which  I  have  had  the  privilege  of  looking 
I  have  found  well  packed  with  a  grayish  pulp  which  goes  un- 
der the  name  of  brains.  You  have  all  heard  this  compared 
to  blanc-mange,  but  to  me  it  always  looks  as  if  the  blanc- 
mange had  been  allowed  to  get  very  dusty,  and,  to  tell  the 
truth,  they  remind  one  by  their  color  and  appearance  of  hasty 
pudding  or  well  boiled  Indian  meal. 

This  grayish  tint  is  due  to  the  same  gray  substance  that  we 
found  in  the  nerve  fiber.  There  it  was  inside,  but  here  mainly 
on  the  outside  (excepting  the  ganglia).  Hence  we  might 
consider  the  brain  as  made  up  of  a  vast  number  of  little  star- 
like bodies  (nerve-cells)  held  together  by  millions  of  pellucid 
threads,  the  same  which,  wrapped  together  in  bundles,  we  call 
nerves,  and  when  we  cut  down  into  this  mass  of  connecting 
threads  they  look  as  white  and  creamy  as  the  nerves  them- 
selves. It  is  nerve  matter,  and,  as  we  presently  shall  see,  its 
office  is  the  same  as  nerves  every-where  else ;  namely,  to 
carry  messages. 

Few  of  you,  I  presume,  will  ever  peep  at  the  brain  of  a 
human  being  ;  but  any  of  you  can  get  a  very  fair  idea  of 
its  shape  from  the  next  English  walnut  which  you  crack  at 
dessert.  This  resemblance  was  observed  at  least  as  early  as 
the  days  of  Cowley,  who  found  similarity  not  only  in  shape, 
but  also  in  its  coverings  to  those  of  the  brain: 

"  Membranes  soft  as  silk  her  kernel  bind, 
Whereof  the  innermost  is  of  the  tenderest  kind, 
Like  those  which  on  the  brain  of  man  we  find, 
And  which  are  in  a  seam-joined  shell  confined." 

And  just  here  we  must  spare  a  moment  for  the  three  mem- 
branes which  line  our  "seam-joined"  brain-shell.  These  the 
anatomists  have  named  the  dura  mater,  the  arachnoid,  and  the 
pia  mater;  or,  the  harsh  mother,  the  spider's  web,  and  the  lov- 
ing mother.     Very  poetical,  to  be  sure,  but  the  medical  stu- 


190  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

dent  gave  us  a  better  idea  of  their  uses  when  he  called  them 
respectively  the  brain's  coat,  shirt,  and  flannel;  and  truly  the 
dura  mater  coat  is  a  good  fit  of  the  best  material,  for  it  is  so 
tough,  and  lines  the  cranium  so  closely,  that  you  can  crack 
a  skull  with  a  hammer  without  tearing  the  dura  mater. 
The  spider's  web  shirt,  as  its  name  implies,  is  very  delicate, 
and  scarcely  more  than  a  smooth  surface  over  which  the 
tough  dura  mater  can  glide  without  injuring  the  blood- 
vessels in  the  pia  mater.  The  latter  is  not  so  much  a  mem- 
brane as  a  perfect  net-work  of  capillaries,  into  which  larger 
blood-vessels  divide  and  subdivide,  lest  by  their  pulsation 
they  should  disarrange  the  pulpy  structure  of  the  brain.  And 
now,  though  these  membranes  have  been  spoken  of  as  the 
brain's  clothing,  please  remember  that  they  are  found  not  only 
around  the  brain,  but  the  same  three,  with  only  slight  modi- 
fications, are  also  stretched  over  the  after -brain  and  clear 
down  the  spinal  cord  ;  for  the  spinal  cord  and  its  fluids  are 
held  in  a  triple  sack  like  the  brain. 

And  now  just  a  word  or  two  about  that  little  after-brain, 
or  cerebellum,  which  is  hung  on  the  back  of  the  cerebrum, 
like  the  little  "  cannon-ball  water-falls "  with  which  the 
rage  of  false  hair  began.  The  cerebellum  is  hollow  and  fur- 
rowed and  puckered,  but  so  unlike  the  rest  of  the  brain  that 
it  seems  to  have  been  made  on  a  different  plan.  It  is  so 
curiously  mixed  gray  and  white  nerve  matter,  that  a  cross 
section  of  it  would  make  you  think  of  marble-cake.  So  it 
appears  as  if  the  cerebellum  was  made  up  of  three  crumpled 
bags.  From  this  bag  issue  four  legs  ;  three  of  these  unite  to 
make,  as  we  shall  presently  see,  the  most  vital  part  of  the  body, 
the  medulla.  The  whole  spinal  cord  might  be  considered  as 
a  tail  to  the  cerebellum,  and  is  made  up  of  a  pile  of  the 
ganglia,  or  nerve  knots,  from  whose  sides  issue  thirty-one 
pairs  of  nerves,  whose  functions  will  be  described  later. 

The  different  parts  of  the  nervous  system  have  very  dif- 
ferent duties.  Unfortunately  for  physiology,  most  men  ob- 
ject to  have  their  brains  experimented  upon  ;  but  dumb 
animals  have  no  rights  that  French  physiologists  think  them- 


Telegraphs  and  Phones. 


191 


selves  bound  to  respect ;  so  they  have  thrust  red-hot  needles 
through  the  various  ganglia  of  pigeons'  brains  and  noticed 
what  faculties  were  impaired  by  so  doing.  From  these  ex- 
periments, and  the  various  injuries  to  the  human  brain  of 
which  we  have  reliable  accounts,  it  seems  very  probable  that 
its  various  faculties  might  be  mapped  like  a  geography  into 
regions  of 

a — Conscious  thought. 

b— Smell. 

c — Conscious  sensation. 

d — Voluntary  motion. 

e — Sight. 

f—  Forwarding  house. 

g — Vital  point. 


-<i2. 


TS. 


The  Spinal  Cord. 

A.  A  front  view  of  a  portion  of  the  cord.  On  the  right  side  the  anterior  roots,  A. 
R.,  are  entire  ;  on  the  left  side  they  are  cut,  to  show  the  posterior  roots,  P.P.  B.  A 
transverse  section  of  the  cord.  A,  the  anterior  fissure  ;  P,  the  posterior  fissure ;  G,  the 
central  canal ;  C,  the  gray  matter,  W,  the  white  matter ;  A.R.,  the  anterior  root,  P. 
R.,  the  posterior  root,  Gn,  the  ganglion,  and  T,  the  trunk,  of  a  spinal  nerve. 

We  might,  too,  consider  the  spinal  cord  as  thirty-one  little 
brains  piled  atop  of  one  another,  each  of  which  has  its  double 
pair  of  nerves.  Generally  these  spinal  ganglia  do  their  work 
without  troubling  the  greater  brain.  For  instance,  we  are 
cramped,  and  move  to  make  ourselves  easier  without  thinking 
to  will  any  thing  about  it.  And  how  do  we  do  this  ?  Some- 
thing in  this  way  :  I  imagine  a  message  comes  creeping  up 
the  "  P.R."  root  of  a  spinal  ganglion,  saying  such  and  such 
muscles  are  tired  and  need  a  change.  These  ganglia  are 
something  like   a  police  justice  in  that  the  minor  grievances 


192  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

of  the  body  are  carried  to  them  and,  if  possible,  disposed 
of  without  appealing  to  the  brain.  If,  therefore,  this 
"P.R."  ganglia  finds  that  the  case  comes  within  its  juris- 
diction it  sends  its  command  back  down  the  corresponding 
motor  nerve,  and  the  matter  is  speedly  ended.  But  suppose 
this  "P.R."  ganglion  has  not  been  sufficient  for  the  case;  we 
may  have  cut  our  finger,  and  the  smart  is  not  appeased  by 
simply  pulling  the  finger  away  from  the  knife-blade.  The 
"P.R." ganglion  has  done  all  it  could,  and  so  it  sends  word 
up  to  the  optic  thalamus  (see  cut)  by  means  of  myriads  of 
little  sensory  telegraph  wires,  which  cross  over  almost  as 
soon  as  they  enter  the  cord,  for  the  bureau  for  right-hand 
pains,  etc.,  is  on  the  left  side  of  the  brain,  and  vice  versa. 
And  now  you  have  the  information  at  sensation  head- 
quarters, and  what  are  you  going  to  do  about  it  ?  That  de- 
pends upon  circumstances.  It  might  remain  there  simply  as 
a  sensational  pain  and  that  be  all  about  it.  But  unless  you 
are  deeply  engrossed  in  something  else,  or  very  stupid,  the 
word  is  telegraphed  up  to  the  supreme  court  in  the  region  of 
conscious  thought,  which  ought  to  give  a  verdict  according 
to  its  best  knowledge  and  previous  experience — or  too  often 
from  caprice.  For  instance,  it  might  decide  that  you  need 
not  do  any  thing  about  it,  and  there  the  matter  ends  ;  but 
more  likely  it  decides  that  the  wisest  thing  for  you  to  do  is 
to  put  that  finger  into  your  mouth,  or  put  a  light  bandage 
around  the  limb,  or  this,  that,  or  the  other  thing ;  but  what- 
ever is  resolved  to  be  done  is  immediately  telegraphed  down 
to  the  bureau  of  motion — usually  a  whole  batch  of  commands, 
such  as  in  the  first  case,  where  we  might  suppose  them  to  be : 
stick  up  your  finger,  elevate  your  wrist  and  arm,  open  your 
mouth,  etc.  Now  this  whole  squad  of  commands  is  hurried 
down  to  where  the  work  is  sorted  out,  and  particular  orders 
are  sent  to  each  muscle,  whose  aid  will  be  needed  in  this  in- 
tricate work ;  for  even  a  little  thing,  as  moving  one's  finger, 
requires  more  servants  than  were  necessary  to  move  the 
king  of  Spain  back  from  the  fire.  All  this  the  cerebellum 
attends  to,  and  sends  each  message  of  these  crossways  down 


Telegraphs  and  Phones.  193 

the  neck  until  they  all  come  out  of  their  appropriate  motor 
nerves,  so  exactly  in  the  nick  of  time  that  one  might  think 
thrusting  your  finger  into  your  mouth  had  been  your  one 
great  work  since  you  were  born. 

If  you  ask  what  these  nerve  messages  are  I  must  tell 
you  frankly  that  I  don't  know.  Many  physiologists  think 
them  a  subtle  form  of  electricity.  Possibly  it  may  be,  but  I 
want  to  say  just  here  that  though  the  soul  may  use  electricity 
to  send  its  messages,  yet  the  electricity  is  no  more  a  soul  than 
the  message  sent  along  the  telegraph  wires  is  the  man  who 
sends  it.  The  materialist  would  have  us  believe,  because  he 
finds  heat  and  electricity  in  the  brain,  that  there  is  no  soul 
besides  these.  As  well  believe  that  the  click  of  the  key 
and  the  fuming  of  the  battery  could  send  intelligent  mes- 
sages across  the  Atlantic  without  an  operator.  We  have 
been  describing  only  our  marvelous  telegraphic  apparatus, 
which  anticipated  Professor  Morse  by  some  6,000  years  ; 
but  its  operator  hath  no  man  seen  at  any  time,  for  spirit 
must  ever  elude  the  physiologist's  grasp. 

So  we  would   do  better  to   quit   grasping  after  it,  for  at 

best  we  should  only  result  in  failure.     But  we  may  spend  a 

few  moments  profitably  asking  how  these  messages  are  sent 

"and  what  will  follow  on  their  using."     We  say  as  quick  as 

thought,  but  Professor  Helmholtz  has  discovered  that  we  can 

tli ink  no  faster  than  eighty  feet  a  second,  according  to  the 

direction  in  which  we  would  send  it — by  which  I  mean  that 

an  order  or  pain  cannot   travel  up  and  down  a  nerve  faster 

than  the  previous  mentioned  rates;  whereupon  some  English 

mathematician,  who  evidently  was  trying  to  keep  Satan  at 

bay,  sat  down  and  figured  up  that   we   could  not  possibly 

entertain  during  a  life-time  more  than  3, loo,  160,000  distinct 

ideas.     Nothing  like  being  exact.     But  unfortunately  it  does 

not  follow  that  we  all  have  that  number  of  distinct  ideas  ; 

for  we  need  training  to  think,  as  much  as  we  once  did  to 

walk.     It  is  a  trite  saying  that  we  are  bundles  of  habits,  and 

in  nothing  is  this  more  true  than   in  our  ways  of  thinking. 

We   are  very  apt   to    think    in   ruts,  especially  as  we  grow 
9 


194  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

older.    "For  custom  hath  made  it  a  property  of  easiness," 

and  do  we  not  all  like  to  take  our  ease  in  our  own  inn? 
Take  "  slang,"  for  instance  ;  slang  is  only  mental  laziness, 
in  using  some  senseless  phrase  in  such  a  way  that  you  force 
your  listener  to  guess  your  meaning,  providing  what  you  say 
has  any.  Just  now  it  may  sound  very  piquant  and  witty, 
but  that  unlucky  phrase  will  thrust  its  head  into  society 
at  some  time  when  it  will  make  you  heartily  ashamed  of 
yourself.  And  so  of  the  thousand  and  one  uncouth  actions 
and  tricks  into  which  we  fall  as  easily  as  sliding  down  hill. 

So  let  us  go  back  to  our  telegraphic  apparatus  and  ask 
what  are  its  charges  for  sending  messages.  Why,  nothing, 
you  say.  Are  you  so  sure  of  that  ?  I  know  that  nature 
posts  up  no  tariff  of  so  much  for  the  first  ten  words,  but 
nature's  charges  are  no  less  certain.  She  is  a  very  Shylock 
in  the  bonds  that  she  makes  us  give  for  the  use  of  these 
nerves,  and  gets  the  pound  of  flesh.  Ask  your  friend  who 
suffers  from  the  neuralgia,  etc.,  whether  nature's  knives  are 
not  keener  than  any  made  of  steel.  Just  here  I  want  to  say 
that  for  those  poor  mortals  whose  bonds  went  forfeit  by  their 
parents  before  they  were  born  we  ought  to  have  only  the 
kindliest  pity;  for  they  live  in  a  prison-house  of  torture  of 
which  one  in  good  health  can  have  but  the  faintest  idea.  Why 
these  fearful  penalties  have  been  set  over  against  our  most 
exquisite  pleasures  is  more  than  I  can  say;  but  "the  law 
allows  it  and  the  court  awards  it,"  so  there  is  no  use  of  our 
murmuring,  especially  as  there  is  rarely  necessity  that  our 
bonds  should  go  forfeit.  Each  thought  and  sensation  re- 
quires a  certain  expenditure  of  nerve  influence,  electricity, 
psychic  force — I  care  not  what  you  call  it,  as  long  as 
we  understand  that  every  thought  takes  something  from 
our  nervous  supply  in  the  same  way  that  every  message 
requires  electricity  ;  and  just  as  the  battery  needs  pro- 
vision for  a  fresh  supply  so  must  our  nervous  system  have 
its  supplies.  Ample  provision  has  been  made  for  this. 
Sleep  is  nerve  food  par  excellence,  and  as  long  as  we  have 
this  we  can  laugh  old  Shylock  nature  to  scorn  ;  for  regular 


Telegraphs  and  Phones.  195 

natural  sleep  is  the  solid  coin  with  which  we  ought  daily  to 
meet  his  bond.  How  much  does  he  demand  daily  ?  That 
depends  upon  the  person  ;  tor  no  inflexible  law  can  be  laid 
down  for  every  one.  The  old  saying  was,  six  hours  for  a 
man,  seven  for  a  woman,  eight  for  a  child,  and  nine  for  a 
fool ;  and  if  that  be  true  I  am  afraid  that  there  are  more  chil- 
dren and  fools  than  men  and  women  in  America.  We  live 
too  fast,  and  in  consequence  are  the  most  restless  and  irri- 
table people  in  the  world;  which  simply  means  that  the  Shy- 
lock  nature  is  letting  us  gradually  overdraw  our  account, 
and  some  day,  when  we  least  expect  it,  he  will  have  his 
forfeit,  though  it  leaves  us  nervous  wrecks  or  raving  maniacs. 

There  is  an  Italian  who  has  invented  what  he  calls  a 
"  nerve-tuner,"  by  which  he  promises  when  we  are  all 
unstrung — on  edge,  as  we  call  it — with  a  few  twists  to 
put  our  nerves,  like  the  strings  of  a  piano,  back  into  concert 
pitch  and  keep  them  there.  Thrice  blessed  Italian,  come  to 
America,  and  if  what  thou  sayest  be  true  we  will  greet  thee 
as  never  was  man  greeted  before  !  But  in  the  meantime  we 
may  say  with  Sancho  Panza,  "  Blessed  is  the  man  that  in- 
vented sleep  !  "  Here  is  no  opportunity  to  quote  the  many 
beautiful  tributes  to  sleep,  or  even  to  discuss  what  sleep 
is,  but  only  to  say  bluntly  that  this  matter  of  sleep  settles 
largely  what  kind  of  men  and  women  we  are.  There  is  a 
pleasurable  excitement  in  the  whirl  of  fashionable  life,  but 
doc-  it  pay  ?  For  each  hour  thus  spent  we  have  to  pay 
its  full  price,  and  nature's  laws  cannot  be  defrauded  the 
twentieth  part  of  one  poor  scruple.  No  form  of  battery 
can  be  used  continuously  without  exhaustion. 

Sleep  is  nature's  method  of  recharging  aright  these  subtle 
batteries  of  ours,  without  which  we  cannot  be  sound  either  in 
mind,  body,  or  estate  ;  therefore,  count  it  among  your  great- 
est blessings  if,  like  Sam  Jones,  you  can  go  to  bed  and 
sleep.  "Sleek-headed  men,  and  such  as  sleep  o'  nights," 
may  be  of  little  value  as  conspirators,  but  they  are  happier 
m"i)  and  better  citizens  than  those  who  lie  awake  o'  nights 
to  plot  and  plan.      In  fact,  it  is  a  general  and  safe  rule  that 


196  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

when  business  crowds  itself  into  your  sleeping  hours  your 
business  is  pushing  you,  and  not  you  your  business.  Beware, 
for  the  time  is  not  far  off  when  you  and  your  business  must 
part  company,  probably  both  of  you  crippled  by  your  undue 
zeal.  The  first  signal  of  danger  being  done  to  these  exquisite 
nerve-batteries  is  wakefulness.  You  can't  sleep  as  you  used 
to,  or  you  sleep  restlessly,  and  dream  perpetually  of  your 
daily  vocation.  Look  out,  or  the  undue  tension  may  ruin 
irretrievably  the  delicate  mechanism  of  your  brain.  "O, 
nonsense,"  you  say.  "I  live  on  excitement,  and  don't  need 
as  much  sleep  as  formerly."  Nature  never  makes  any  mis- 
take. As  wTell  might  you  disregard  the  warning  bell  of  an 
approaching  locomotive  as  this  symptom  of  wakefulness 
without  apparent  cause.  You  may  in  either  case  escape  with 
your  life,  if  you  continue  on  your  way  without  heeding  the 
warning  bell,  but  the  probabilities  are  that  you  will  be  per- 
manently crippled  from  the  unequal  contest.  America,  more 
than  any  other  civilized  country,  is  full  of  men,  and  women 
especially,  who  drag  out  a  wretched  existence  simply  because 
they  have  disregarded  these  warnings  of  an  overtaxed 
nervous  system,  and  have  kept  on  their  way  until  they  were 
tossed  aside  by  the  engine  of  wealth,  fashion,  or  ambition, 
and  left  crippled  wrecks  for  the  rest  of  their  lives.  "O,  but 
every  body  does  so,  and  I  must  somehow,  or  I  shall  be  talked 
about  and  pitied."  Then  be  talked  about  and  pitied  for  a 
while  ;  continually  so,  if  necessary ;  but,  for  the  love  of  your 
own  bodies  and  souls,  don't  commit  suicide,  for  it  is  nothing 
less.  Perhaps  if  only  yourselves  and  your  families  were  to  be 
considered  your  suicide  would  be  preferable,  for  this  nervous 
exhaustion  produces  an  irritability  and  waspishness  that 
makes  your  coming  more  dreaded  than  the  gout.  You  are 
harsh,  crabbed,  unreasonable,  suspicious,  until  you  hate  your- 
self, and  the  world  looks  hopefully  on  toward  your  death. 
And  all  this  solely  because  you  will  have  your  own  way,  and 
hurt  yourself  in  spite  of  all  that  can  safely  be  done  to  pre- 
vent you. 

Does  it  pay  ?    No,  you  say  ;  I  knowr  it  does  not,  and  I  have 


Telegraphs  and  Phones.  197 

[•rayed  for  grace  to  carry  me  through  this  time  of  trial.  My 
dear  madam,  will  you  allow  me  kindly  to  say  that  you  need 
rest  fully  as  much  as  sanctification  ?  Perhaps  I  would  better 
say  you  need  rest  and  sanctification,  for  your  burden  is  largely 
self-imposed  ;  so  don't  carry  it  any  longer.  "  But,"  says  a 
busy  man,  "  I  can't  lay  my  burdens  down.  I  know  they  are 
self  imposed,  but  just  now  my  affairs  are  in  such  a  condition 
that  it  is  the  height  of  folly  to  neglect  them."  My  friend, 
whoever  you  are — preacher,  teacher,  doctor,  over-anxious 
mother — if  you  are  getting  nervous,  irritable,  wakeful,  it  is 
the  height  of  folly  to  keep  at  what  you  are  at  present  doing. 
Stop  while  you  can,  for  before  long  stopping  will  be  useless. 
Instead  of  stopping  you  will  be  stopped,  or  "  lag  superfluous 
on  the  stage." 

Another  manifestation  of  nerve-tire  is  neuralgia,  usually, 
too,  an  affection  of  the  better  and  more  finely  organized  half 
of  humanity.  Woman's  greater  endurance  is  purchased  at  the 
expense  of  a  greater  wear  and  tear  of  her  nervous  tissue.  A 
man  will  lie  down  when  overworked  and  dispirited,  and  groan 
off  his  nervous  depression  until  he  comes  to  a  better  frame  of 
mind  and  body,  while  a  woman  under  the  same  circumstances 
will  literally  go  through  fire  and  water  to  finish  what  she  is 
doing,  whether  or  not  it  is  worth  doing  at  all,  and  then  go 
into  nervous  bankruptcy.  Her  nerves,  so  long  kept  at  undue 
tension,  now  fairly  shriek  in  agony,  and  we  say  she  is  a  mar- 
tyr to  neuralgia.  And  she  is  that,  but  in  the  same  way  that 
a  man  is  a  victim  to  bankruptcy  after  he  has  recklessly  specu- 
lated beyond  his  means.  Neuralgia  is  the  torture  of  paying 
overdrafts  on  our  nervous  system  without  resources  to  fall 
back  upon.  In  such  a  plight  there  is  no  other  man  to  do 
the  walking  all  night,  and  so  you  needs  must  do  it,  while 
Shylock  nature  is  cutting  off  her  pounds  of  pain  for  the 
dacats  you  so  lavishly  squandered.  Does  it  pay?  None  of 
US  who  have  ever  been  there  would  say  so  while  in  the 
tort  ure,  but  too  many  of  us  soon  forget  this  sharp  lesson,  and 
go  on  discounting  and  redisconnting  our  nervous  paper  until 
we  come    to  that  absolute  nerve-penury  or  pauperism  to 


198  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

which  the  doctors  give  the  name  of  neurasthenia.  I  do  not 
mean  to  say  that  every  case  of  neuralgia  is  due  to  overdrafts 
on  the  nervous  system,  but  in  nine  times  out  of  ten  it  can 
only  be  cured  by  living  within  the  honest  limits  of  our  nerv- 
ous system.  I  know  that  is  often  annoying  and  painful  to 
one  with  large  ambitions  and  small  resources,  but  so  it  is 
elsewhere  and  every- where.  Better  the  narrower  and  often 
humiliating  limits  of  a  well-preserved  neuvous  system  than 
the  pinching  poverty  of  years  of  neurasthenia. 

Neurasthenia — literally,  weakness  of  the  nerves — is  a  fash- 
ionable complaint  in  these  latter  days,  but  it  truly  designates 
a  pitiable  condition,  not  to  be  laughed  at  or  despised  by  those 
more  fortunate,  any  more  than  poverty  elsewhere.  If  you 
are  so  broad-waisted  and  strong-armed  that  you  do  not  know 
you  have  any  nerves,  be  thankful  for  it;  but  know,  neverthe- 
less, that  our  modern  civilization  has  given  us  as  one  of  its 
products  the  neurasthenic  woman,  whose  every  nerve  lies 
quivering  on  the  brink  of  an  explosion  of  pain.  Strong 
coffee,  poor  ventilation,  improper  food,  fashionable  clothing, 
the  hot-air  furnace,  the  sewing-machine,  the  three  nights  of 
stairs,  and,  more  than  all  these,  the  worry  and  fret  and  ambi- 
tions of  modern  life,  have  stolen  away  the  bodies  and  health 
of  our  American  women. 

I  have  frequently  walked  our  city  streets  looking  through 
the  crowds  almost  in  vain  for  a  thoroughly  healthydooking 
American  girl.  Bright  faces,  stylish  dresses,  graceful  figures, 
intelligent  and  cultured  countenances  can  be  found  on  every 
hand,  but  joined  to  such  bodies  that  it  makes  your  heart 
ache  for  their  probable  futures.  These  girlish  forms  will 
make  the  nervous  wrecks  of  the  next  twenty  years,  and  may 
the  coming  doctor  know  how  to  treat  them  better  than  those 
at  present  on  the  stage!  Said  an  exasperated  physician  once 
in  my  hearing  :  "  Great  heavens,  madam,  you  bring  me 
ninety  pounds  of  nervous  wreck,  and  a  handful  of  false  teeth 
and  hair,  and  ask  me  to  make  a  whole  woman  out  of  that  in 
two  weeks.  It  can't  be  done,  madam,  it  can't  be  done." 
Alas,  it  can't  be  done,  it  can't  be  done  ;  and   if  recovery 


Telegeaphs  axd  Phoxes.  199 

comes  at  all  it  must  come  as  the  result  of  many  months  of 
weary  watching  and  patient  care. 

Better  fewer  accomplishments,  better  less  company,  better 
less  excitement,  better  fewer  books,  papers — yes,  better  less 
almost  any  thing — than  the  modern  city,  bloodless,  libel  on 
God's  idea  of  womanhood.  The  Creator  made  every  thing 
good,  and  if  we  are  not  such  as  he  would  have  us  it  is  because 
we  prefer  our  way  to  his;  and  our  ways  not  being  as  wise  as 
his  we  necessarily  fall  into  trouble.  Even  then  the  penalties 
are  the  lightest  and  best  that  eternal  wisdom  can  devise  to 
correct  mistakes  and  stubbornness;  but  we  will  and  we  wont, 
like  stubborn  children,  and  then,  in  the  intervals  of  the  pain 
sent  to  prevent  further  pain,  we  groan  out  that  we  are  fear- 
fully and  wonderfully  made. 

So  we  are  ;  and  there  is  no  more  exquisite  instance  of  this 
than  this  same  nervous  system,  which  is  to  us  the  source  of 
all  our  pleasure  and  pain,  chiefly  given  to  prevent  us  hurting 
ourselves  ;  for,  did  you  ever  stop  to  think  what  great  care 
has  been  taken  to  guard  us  from  all  possible  harm?  Xo 
safety  deposit  vault  ever  had  half  so  much  pains  taken  to 
guard  its  treasures  as  have  b^en  lavished  upon  the  house  in 
which  we  live.  Thousands  of  dollars  are  freely  spent  to 
connect  these  safety  vaults  with  burglar  alarms  and  proper 
protection,  but  no  one  has  ever  dreamed  of  encasing  them 
in  such  a  net-work  of  protection  as  is  found  in  every  square 
inch  of  our  bodies.  Our  burglar  alarms  are  our  nerves,  and 
so  complete  is  the  entwinement  of  these  nervous  fibers  about 
our  bodies  that  if  there  were  any  way  in  which  the  rest 
of  our  bodies  could  be  dissolved  away  from  them,  leaving 
the  nerves  intact,  these  would  give  us  a  complete  outline  of 
the  whole  body  almost  as  perfect  as  that  of  the  areolar  tissue. 
(See  page  22.)  So  intricate  is  this  interlacing  of  these  tiny 
white  nerve- fibers  over  the  surface  of  the  body  that  v<>u 
cannot  thrust  in  the  point  of  the  finest  cambric  needle  with- 
out touching  a  nerve:  for  it  is  these  alone  that  make  us  feel 
pain.  Blood,  bone  and  muscles  uive  us  no  sensations  when 
they  are  cut,  for  a  paralyzed  limb  may  even  be  amputated 


200  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

without  feeling,  because  its  nerves  no  longer  respond  to  their 
usual  stimuli. 

What,  then,  is  this  nervous  system,  which,  like  most  of  the 
other  good  things  we  enjoy  in  this  world,  is  capable  of  mak- 
ing us  exquisitely  happy  or  Avretchedly  miserable  ?  It  is  made 
up,  as  has  already  been  said,  of  at  least  three  parts;  namely, 
(1)  the  general  office  (brain),  (2)  automatic  trunk-lines 
(spinal  cord),  and  (3)  special  receiving  offices,  distributed 
over  the  whole  body,  so  that  you  cannot  touch  one  of  them 
anywhere,  even  with  a  pin,  without  having  word  instantly 
sent  to  the  general  office  as  to  where  the  trouble  is. 

This  general  office  we  call  the  brain.  As  already  said, 
when  taken  from  the  body  it  looks  very  like  a  bowl  full  of 
ill-cooked  mush  or  blanc-mange.  And  yet  on  the  way  in 
which  we  use  those  two  handfuls  of  grayish  matter  hang  our 
destinies  for  all  time  and  eternity.  It  would  take  a  large 
library  to  hold  the  books  that  have  already  been  written  upon 
the  various  parts  and  functions  of  a  human  brain,  and  we 
are  very  far  yet  from  knowing  all  that  we  would  like  to  in 
the  matter.  Suffice  it  now  to  say  that  we  have  good  reasons 
for  believing  that  the  different  parts  of  our  brains  do  different 
parts  of  our  head-work.  One  part  tells  us  of  forms  and  colors, 
another  of  distances,  another  of  words  and  thoughts,  and  so 
on,  until  a  map  of  the  brain  under  the  present  system  is  almost 
a  short  course  on  the  mental  and  moral  faculties  of  man.  It 
is,  in  fact,  an  unsurpassable  telephone  board  for  all  the  wants, 
desires,  and  pleasures  of  man,  such  as  nothing  but  infinite 
wisdom  could  have  constructed. 

Hardly  less  wonderful  are  the  automatic  trunk-lines,  or 
spinal  cord  and  nerves,  as  they  are  usually  called.  These  are 
really,  as  you  see,  a  prolongation  of  the  brain,  located  in  the 
backbone  to  protect  it  from  injury.  (See  cut,  page  58.)  In 
regard  to  their  functions,  imagine,  if  you  can,  a  telegraph  line 
whose  wires  are  capable  of  doing  their  work  without  direction, 
and  you  have  in  brief  a  very  good  idea  of  the  work  done  by  the 
spinal  or  reflex  nerves.  If  you  look  at  them  a  little  more 
closely,  you  will  find  that,  like  the  brain,  they  are  divided 


Telegraphs  and  Phones.  201 

into  two  equal  parts,  longitudinally,  one   to  serve  each  half 
of  the  body,  and  that  these  halves,  on  account  of  their  soft, 
gelatinous  composition,  are  wrapped  in  no  less  than  three 
tough  enveloping  membranes,  and  then  the  whole  is  inclosed 
in  a  bony  case.     Like  the  brain,  they  are  made  up  of  white 
and  gray  matter,  the  latter  inside  of  the  white  and  forming 
there  on  cross  section  a  sort  of  rude  letter  H.     From  the  ex- 
tremities of  these  H's  sixty-two  spinal  nerves  are  given  off  and 
pass  out  to  perform  their  duties  through  as  many  notches,  or 
holes,  in  the  backbone.     These  nerves  form  thirty-one  pairs, 
and  soon  unite  into  a  common  trunk  by  means  of  a  ganglion. 
Now,  ganglion  is  a  Greek  word  for  a  knot,  and  is  used  to 
denote  curious  little  knots  or  swellings  found  every  now  and 
then  along  the  course  of  nerves,  especially  where  they  branch 
or  unite  with  other  nerves.     The  use  of  these  ganglia  was 
for  a  long  time  unknown,  but  latterly  it  has  been  well  proven 
that  they  act  the  part  of  subsidiary  brains,  and  are  capable  of 
doing  automatically  less  important  work.    They  all  have  direct 
or  indirect  connection  with  the  brain  proper,  and  if  necessary 
can  communicate  with  it,  but  are  capable  of  running  very 
much  of  our  body  without  any  interference  with  it  from  the 
brain  proper.     For  instance,  we  start  off  to  walk.     We  are 
conscious  of  willing  that  our  leg  machinery  should  propel  us 
forward,  but  once  having  started  it  we  leave  the  rest  of  the 
work  to  the  ganglionic  and  spinal  nervous  system,  without 
giving  any  thought  to  it  until  it  is  time  for  us  to  will  to  go 
in  some  other  direction;  then  we  telegraph  to  the  ganglia  to 
carry  us  in  that  way,  or  stop,  as  the  case  may  be,  like  the  con- 
ductor and  the  fireman  on  a  train.    These  ganglia,  then,  regulate 
automatically  the  pressure  of  our  feet  and  the  proper  contrac- 
tion and  relaxation  of  all  the  muscles  necessary  for  locomotion 
without  our  giving  any  conscious  thought  to  it.     Thisthcvdo 
by  automatically  regulating  and  controlling  the  proper  nerve 
supply — or  co-ordination,  as  we  call  it.    Why,  for  instance,  does 
a  babe  put  his  spoon  as  often  into  hie  ear  as  into  his  mouth  ? 
Because    hifl   ganglia   have    not    yet    learned    to    co-ordinate 
hia  muscles  and  to  fore-  them  into  work  in  harmony.     And 

9* 


202 


Physiology  and  Hygiene. 


so  it  would  be  with  us  in  every  action  requiring  more  than  a 
single  muscle,  if  it  were  not  for  these  little  insignificant  knots  of 

gray  nervous  matter. 
Alcohol  takes  away  their 
power  of  co-ordination, 
and  hence  we  see  drunk- 
en men  "  reel  to  and  fro 
and  be  at  their  wits' 
end"  to  know  which 
way  to  lean,  or  how  to 
sit  down  without  hold- 

Isolated  ganglion  cell  from  the  anterior  horn  of  the  ing    on  ;   and    the    most 
human  cord.-Klein.  soher   man  in  the  world 

would  be  in  like  plight  if  it  were  not  for  these  ganglia,  which 
act  very  much  like  the  relays,  I  believe  they  call  them,  on  a 
telegraphic  circuit,  which  do  so  much  of  the  work  of  trans- 
mission without  requiring  a  conscious  operator  in  their  stead. 
So  it  is  with  our  ganglia.  If  it  were  not  for  them  we  should 
be  tired  to  death  merely  trying  to  remember  to  keep  alive. 
How  is  it  that  we  never  forget  to  breathe  ?  We  certainly 
do  not  think  to  do  so  every  time.  Why,  these  ganglia  and 
respiratory  centers  take  the  matter  in  hand,  and  we  have  never 
to  give  it  a  second  thought  until  our  lungs  get  out  of  repair, 
or  are  overtasked  with  an  unusual  amount  of  work.  Whether 
we  are  sleeping  or  waking,  busy  or  idle,  happy  or  broken- 
hearted, these  patient,  uncomplaining  servants  work  on  and 
on  and  on  for  us,  giving  us  leisure  for  improvement  and  the 
pursuit  of  happiness.  The  work  of  certain  ganglia,  as  the  res- 
piratory centers,  we  can  increase  or  diminish  somewhat  at 
will,  but  we  cannot  entirely  stop  them  at  our  volition,  for  we 
cannot  hold  our  breath,  voluntarily,  until  we  choke.  And 
over  other  of  these  automatic  centers  we  have  no  control  at  all, 
as,  for  instance,  those  which  regulate  the  heart's  actions,  which 
are  entirely  beyond  our  willing.  The  brain's  function  is  to 
receive  the  messages  passed  into  it  by  the  nerves,  and  to  de- 
cide from  these  impressions  what  is  best  to  be  done  under  the 
circumstances.     This  is  what  we  call  psychic  force  or  power, 


Telegraphs  and  Phoxes. 


203 


and  its  seat  is  located  in  the  anterior  hemispheres  of  the 
brain,  especially  in  the  gray  matter  of  the  cerebrum,  as 
this  part  is  called.  Just  behind  and  below  the  cerebrum,  as 
may  be  seen  on  page  188,  is  the  cerebellum,  or  little  brain,  and 
its  prolongation,  the  medulla  and  spinal  cord.  In  this  cere- 
bellum you  see  a  curious  leaf-like  arrangement,  to  which  the 
older  anatomists  gave  the  name  of  the  arbor  vitce,  or  the  tree  of 
life ;  and  it  is  well  named,  for  in  it  are  the  ganglia,  or  centers, 
which  regulate  our  breathing,  heart's  beating,  and  all  the  func- 
tions which  are  necessary  to  carry  on  our  lives. 

These  are  automatic,  as  has  already  been  said, 
and  hence,  as  we  sometimes  see,  a  man  may  live 
for  years  after  all  his  powers  of  thinking  and 
perception  are  gone;  for  these  automatic  centers 
work  without  his  will  or  wish.  Other  of  these 
ganglia  act  reflexly,  or  by  irritation  elsewhere 
than  where  the  results  are  produced;  for  example,  | 
sneezing,  which  is  a  spasmodic  expulsion  of  air 
from  the  lungs,  and  is  produced  not  by  irrita- 
tion in  the  lungs,  where  the  spasm  takes  place, 
but  in  the  nose,  whence  the  irritation  is  trans- 
mitted to  the  ganglia,  whose  duty  it  is  to  forci- 
bly drive  the  air  out  of  our  lungs  when  required, 
whether  we  like  it  or  not  ;  for  we  can  no  more 
help  sneezing  than  breathing.  How  does  this 
impulse  or  irritation  pass  from  the  nose  to  these 
centers  ? 

Their  microscopic  appearance  has  already 
been  described;  but  we  would  again  call  to 
mind  the  axis- cylinder,  the  central  tiny  white 
fiber,  and  around  this  [a.  c.)  we  find  an  oily 
grayish  substance  that  in  life  is  probably  fluid, 
but  after  death  becomes  gelatinous  and  acts  like 
the  rubber  that  is  incited  and  poured  around 
the  central  core  of  our  great  submarine  cables,  white  substance 
Outside  of  the  rubber  in  these  cables  we  of  the  brain, 
have   an  outer  sheathing,  and  we  find  a  similar  arrangement 


The  axis,  (a) 
a  pale,  faintly 
flbrillated  band 
or  cylinder— the 
gray  substance 
of  Purkinje.  This 
has  a  very  deli- 
cate transparent 
sheath,  and  ex- 
ternal t<>  tin's  we 
And  the  white 
substanc  e  of 
Schwann  (c)  an- 
alogous   to    the 


204  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 


in  our  nervous  system;  for  each  nerve  is  covered  over 
with  a  sheath,  and  each  bundle  of  nerves  is  again  covered, 
exactly  as  we  find  the  cables  of  wires  covered  with  par- 
afline  for  the  use  of  the  telegraph  and  telephone  companies. 
The  purpose  of  the  paraffine  or  rubber  in  these  is  to 
prevent  leakage  of  the  electricity,  as  these  packings  and 
sheathings  are  non-conductors  of  electricity.  The  same  is 
true  of  the  nerve-envelopes  ;  in  fact,  their  arrangement  is  so 
exactly  like  that  of  the  best  constructed  electrical  cables  that 
we  cannot  help  thinking  that  both  were  constructed  to  con- 
duct something  very  much  alike.  I  know  there  are  those  that 
stoutly  maintain  that  nerve  force  is  not  electricity;  and  it  is 
not,  in  the  sense  that  an  electrical  battery  is  the  same  thing 
as  a  live  man;  but  nevertheless  nerve  force  is  closely  allied 
to  that  wonderful  thing  that  for  want  of  some  better  name 
and  clearer  understanding  we  agree  to  call  electricity.  In 
these  latter  days  they  photograph  with  electric  light,  and 
perhaps  something  analogous  takes  place  within  the  brain. 
Each  of  its  billions  of  starry  cells  may  possibly  hold  within 
it  photographic  transparencies  waiting  for  memory's  lantern 
to  restore  them  to  us  with  all  their  original  beauty  and  color. 
Thus  each  of  us  may  carry  about  with  us  a  picture-gallery  like 
that  of  blind  old  Xiebuhr,  or  Louis  Philippe's  state  china  which 
was  decorated  with  views  of  all  the  homes  in  which  he  had 
lived,  and  they  were  many  and  various;  for  if  we  will  we  may 
paint  every  old  pot  and  pan  with  the  paintings  of  memory  and 
imagination  until  they  are  fairer  than  Sevres  china.  "  Make  for 
yourself  nests  of  pleasant  thoughts,"  says  Ruskin,  and  the  hap- 
piest man  is  the  one  whose  brain  is  full  of  such  pleasant  resting 
nooks;  but  what  shall  we  say  of  the  man  or  boy  who  fills  his 
mind  with  Pompeiian  pictures  and  vile  thoughts,  to  keep  them 
there  for  the  rest  of  his  life.  He  is  a  vandal,  or  worse,  who 
would  defile  a  king's  palace  in  this  way,  and  still  coarser  if  it 
is  his  own  home.  Such  pictures  and  stories  burn  into  mem- 
ory like  a  hot  iron,  and,  unfortunately,  they  are  so  common 
that  the  White  Cross  League  is  needed  fully  as  much  here  as 
in  old  England,  where  it  originated.     (See  Appendix.) 


Telegraphs  and  Phones.  205 

To  turn  to  another  and  pleasanter  subject,  let  us  look 
briefly  for  a  few  moments  at  our  ears;  for  we  have  in 
the  body  no  daintier  adaptation  of  means  to  ends  than 
that  seen  in  the  organs  of  hearing.  "We  think  the  telephone 
a  great  invention,  and  so  it  is,  but  it  is  an  old  one — older 
than  most  of  us  think  ;  for  unless  we  do  so  stop  to  think  we 
forget  that  each  of  us  carries  about  with  us  a  pair  of  telephones 
better  than  either  the  Edison  or  the  pan-electric.  Our  ears, 
fortunately,  are  not  so  cumbersome  as  a  Bell  instrument;  but 
if  we  examine  them  carefully  we  shall  find  the  same  princi- 
ples underlying  their  construction  which  are  employed  in  all 
the  modern  telephones.  The  essential  parts  of  all  of  these  are 
a  vibrating  plate  and  transmitting  wires  to  carry  these  vibra- 
tions to  some  listener  at  a  distance.  Now  this  is  essentially 
what  we  find  our  ears  to  be — true  telephones,  though  con- 
structed more  delicately  than  any  of  those  of  man's  make. 
Where,  for  instance,  can  you  find  a  receiver  as  delicately 
fashioned  as  the  external  ear  ?  At  its  worst  it  is  a  thing  of 
beauty  and  most  admirably  adapted  to  the  purpose  for  which 
it  was  made — namely,  catching  and  conveying  to  the  mem- 
brane of  the  drum  of  the  ear  as  large  a  number  as  possible  of 
the  sounds  about  us.  This  membrane  of  the  ear  corresponds 
to  the  vibrating  plate  of  the  telephone,  and  is  shaped,  though 
smaller,  exactly  like  the  membranes  used  in  the  ordinary 
home-made  telephone. 

The<e  membranes  are  shallow  cones,  with  the  apexes 
pointing  downward  and  inward,  anil  cover  over  a  cavity 
in  the  hard  bones  of  the  skull  to  which  the  name  of  the 
drum  of  the  ear  has  been  given,  not  so  much  to  any 
fancied  resemblance  of  its  shape  to  a  drum  as  to  the  fact 
that  both  en<ls  of  this  cavity  are  covered  with  membrane 
very  like  the  parchment  or  skin  of  a  drum-head.  This  ear- 
drum has  its  sticks  inside  in  the  shape  of  three  very  small 
bones,  to  which  the  names  of  hammer,  anvil,  and  stirrup  have 
been  given.  These  lie  one  upon  another  in  such  wise  that  the 
handle  of  the  hammer  is  fastened  to  the  apex  of  the  cone  of 
membrane  which  constitutes,  as  told  you,  the  receiver  of  the 


206  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

telephone.  Every  time  this  vibrates  it  drives  the  head  of  the 
hammer  against  its  small  bone-anvil,  and  the  anvil  in  turn 
pushes  against  the  stirrup,  and  the  stirrup  against  the  mem- 
brane at  the  other  end  of  the  drum.  These  little  bones  thus 
constitute  a  short  circuit  to  carry  sounds  across  the  air  cham- 
ber of  the  ear  and  transmit  them  to  the  membrane  at  the 
further  or  inner  end  of  the  drum.  What  becomes  of  these 
vibrations  there  ?  All  sounds  are  due  to  vibrations  of  vary- 
ing rapidity.  (See  page  169.)  Now,  these  vibrations,  trav- 
eling at  their  peculiar  rate  of  speed,  according  to  their  pitch, 
at  last  reach  this  further  end  of  the  drum,  or  the  fenestra 
ovale,  as  it  is  called,  and  passing  through  its  membranous 
curtain  are  received  in  some  curious  little  canals  hollowed 
out  of  the  hardest  portions  of  the  bones  of  the  skull.  In  fact, 
so  snugly  are  they  packed  away  there  that  if  once  inflamma- 
tion gets  into  these  semicircular  canals  the  pain  and  pressure 
are  so  great  that  it  is  enough  to  drive  a  man  crazy — and  it 
has  killed  many  a  man  before  now  and  crippled  more  children, 
especially  those  recovering  from  scarlet  fever,  where  earache 
is  one  of  the  things  especially  to  be  dreaded.  These  little 
canals,  of  which  we  have  been  speaking,  are  so  curiously 
coiled  and  twisted  upon  themselves  that  I  despair  of  de- 
scribing their  shape  to  you  even  by  a  cut,  picture,  and  dia- 
gram at  the  same  time.  Approximately  they  might  in  general 
be  described  as  three  tiny  hoops  and  a  something  not  un- 
like a  snail-shell.  These  contain  membranous  bas^s  filled 
with  fluid,  by  which  we  are  able  to  distinguish  between 
the  different  qualities  of  sounds.  How  this  is  done  is  more 
ingenious  in  method  than  any  telephone  yet  invented. 

First,  the  semicircular  canals.  Their  duty  is  to  dis- 
tinguish as  to  the  quantity  and  intensity  of  sounds,  and  not 
as  to  their  quality  and  pitch.  This  they  do  by  wave  im- 
pulses, set  in  motion  by  the  moving  to  and  fro  of  the 
stirrup,  which,  as  we  have  already  seen,  takes  place  with 
every  sound  entering  the  ear.  These  semicircular  canals 
are  filled  with  a  tiny  water-tight  sack  exactly  fitting  it, 
one   end    of    which   is    fastened   to   the   foot-plate   of   the 


Telegraphs  and  Phones.  207 

stirrup  bone.  They  are  filled  with  fluid  in  which  float 
some  bits  of  sand,  and  into  which  fluid  project  long, 
delicate  filaments  which  cover  the  terminations  of  the 
auditory  nerves.  Now,  every  time  a  sound  reaches  the  mem- 
brane of  the  drum  it  causes  this  to  vibrate.  Its  vibration 
moves  the  hammer,  the  hammer  moves  the  anvil,  the  anvil 
moves  the  stirrup,  the  motion  of  the  stirrup  pulls  forward  the 
end  of  the  tiny  bag  of  water  fastened  to  it.  This  motion  of 
the  bag  sets  its  contents  into  waves,  and  these  waves  cast 
these  bits  of  sand  against  the  sensitive  filaments  lining  the  in- 
side  of  the  sac,  and  the  impulse  of  this  sand  upon  these  fila- 
ments when  transmitted  to  the  brain  along  the  nerves  gives 
us  there  our  perception  of  all  soft  and  loud  noises.  Truly  it 
seems  a  process  as  long  as  getting  the  maiden  married  in  the 
house  that  Jack  built,  but  really  takes  only  the  fraction  of  a 
second  to  accomplish  it,  but  none  the  less  wonderful  on  that 
account.  The  train  of  events  is  about  the  same  in  the  "snail 
shell,"  except  that  there  the  vibrations  pass  up  and  down 
over  something  looking  like  a  minature  key-board,  for  on  it 
are  fastened  a  vast  number  of  fibers,  pointed  at  an  angle 
like  the  keys  of  a  piano,  and  striking  not  wires,  as  in  a  piano- 
forte, but  nerve  terminations.  Most  likely  each  one  of  these 
nerve  ends,  or  keys,  so  to  speak,  represents  a  separate  and 
distinct  musical  impression.  As  Huxley  says,  "  Each  fraction 
of  tone  which  a  well-trained  ear  is  capable  of  distinguishing 
is  represented  by  a  separate  nerve  fiber."  A  tuning-fork  or 
piano-string  will,  as  you  know,  respond  automatically  to  its 
particular  notes  when  sounded  in  its  neighborhood  ;  so  it 
probably  is  with  these  fibers  of  Corti,  which,  as  it  would  seem, 
vibrate  only  in  unison  with  their  particular  sound;  that  is, 
they  ought  to,  but  the  aural  piano-fortes  of  some  men  are 
so  badly  out  of  tune  that  they  can  scarcely  distinguish  "  Old 
Hundred"  from  "Yankee  Doodle,"  although  otherwise  their 
hearing  is  excellent.  This  was  always  a  marvel  to  me  until 
I  began  to  understand  the  different  duties  laid  upon  the  dif- 
ferent parts  of  our  ears.  Unless  there  is  some  congenital  de- 
fect we  probably  all  hear  alike  until  cultivation  enables  us  to 


208  Physiology  axd  Hygiene. 

appreciate  nice  distinctions  of  sound.  This  reaches  its  high- 
est perfection  in  the  blind,  probably  not  because  they  have 
any  better  hearing  than  the  rest  of  us,  but  because  their  mis- 
fortune makes  them  continually  cultivate  their  hearing,  for 
like  all  of  our  faculties  it  is  susceptible  of  very  great  improve- 
ment under  cultivation.  Vocal  culture  trains  both  the 
voice  and  ear  at  once.  And  yet,  after  all,  there  are  vastly 
more  sounds  that  we  cannot  hear  than  those  that  we  can. 
Audible  sounds  are  bound  between  the  comparatively  narrow 
limits  of  those  too  low  or  slow  in  their  vibrations  for  human 
ears  and  those  too  high  or  rapid  in  their  vibrations — like 
those  that  comes  from  a  mosquito's  shrill  song  in  the  night — 
which  are  too  fine  (high-pitched)  to  be  caught  by  our  dull 
ears.  Some  day  we  shall  have  our  ears  unstopped,  and  shall 
find  out  by  actual  hearing  what  it  is  that  the  stars  literally 
sing  together,  for  we  live  in  the  midst  of  a  world  of  melody, 
very  little  of  which  ever  reaches  these  mortal  ears. 

There  is  no  organ  we  possess  that  we  undervalue  so  gen- 
erally as  our  ears  ;  for,  grievous  as  is  blindness,  it  is  really 
less  of  an  affliction  than  deafness.  Deafness  so  cuts  off  a  man 
from  the  rest  of  the  world,  and,  in  spite  of  the  old  witticism 
to  the  contrary,  most  of  us  are  not  good  company  for  ourselves. 
It  is  not  good  in  any  sense  for  man  to  be  alone,  and  our  ears 
are  the  most  trustworthy  means  that  we  have  of  learning 
that  there  are  such  things  as  human  sympathy  and  brother- 
hood in  the  world.  There  are  more  good  men  and  women 
than  we  dream  of,  and  the  only  way  we  shall  ever  learn  to 
know  them  is  through  what  we  may  hear  them  say.  So  let 
us  take  good  care  of  our  ears.  They  are  dainty  and  exquis- 
ite instruments,  and  should  not  be  stuffed  with  old  cotton  or 
filthy  sponges  under  the  pretense  of  cleaning  them.  A  little 
soft  cotton  cloth  gently  twisted  into  the  ear  is  all  that  ought 
ever  to  be  used  for  cleaning  them;  for  more  injury,  I  think,  is 
done  by  over-zealousness  in  this  matter  than  by  too  little 
care.  The  external  ear  should  of  course  be  kept  clean,  but 
all  poking  or  rubbing  of  the  internal  ear  is  bad,  and  often 
positively  injurious   to   so   delicate  a  piece   of  mechanism. 


Telegraphs  and  Phones.  209 

So  delicate  is  it  that  as  soon  as  any  thing  goes  wrong  it  gives 
us  very  positive  evidence  of  trouble  by  the  sharp  danger- 
signal  of  earache.  It  is  too  positive  a  symptom  to  be 
neglected,  so  that  various  remedies  are  tried  until  relief  is 
found,  and  usually  with  this  comes  a  discharge  from  the  ear. 
This  is  generally  slight,  and  there  is  so  often  no  pain  with  it 
that  it  is  considered  a  matter  of  no  moment,  and  yet  ninety 
per  cent,  of  the  cases  of  deafness  that  come  to  the  doctors' 
hands  are  from  this  cause.  Remember,  no  such  discharge 
can  ever  be  safely  neglected — all  the  old  women  in  the 
country  to  the  contrary  notwithstanding. 

There  is,  I  know,  a  popular  prejudice  to  the  effect  that  the 
stoppage  of  such  a  discharge  is  dangerous.  Penning  up  foul 
matters  in  the  delicate  middle  ear  may  lead  to  distressing 
headaches  or  even  to  brain-fever;  but  penning  up  such  mat- 
ters within  the  head  is  a  very  different  thing  from  curing  the 
cause — which  is  what  should  be  done,  and  as  promptly  as 
possible;  for  the  longer  the  delay  the  greater  the  difficulty  in 
curing  what,  if  left  to  itself,  will  certainly  prove  a  life-long 
annoyance,  if  nothing  more  serious. 

Finally,  many  a  poor  child  gets  a  reputation  for  stupidity 
when  the  real  trouble  is  deafness    ^^^^^  ,,. . ,..^^^r*^M 
— not  absolute  deafness,  but  just    I    •  -e^J^^S^S 
enough    dullness    in    hearing    to    ^^^fj^^^v^^ 
make  it  slow  to  catch  the  teach-    l^^^'yS^P^jL^f^ 
er's  exact  words,  and  consequently    |  ^te^S^^^^/:^\ 
miss   his   thought.     The  removal         y^  "^ 

of  a  little  hardened  wax  will  often    :  i. 

transform  the  dullest  pupil  into  a    If 
promising    one,  who  would  have 
been  misunderstood  for  years,  un- 
less   some    one   had    thought    of    u, 
examining  his  ears.  u/  /$/ 

All   our   thoughts,   impressions,  '^ 

delights,  and  Borrows,  come,  then,       BeHcuIated   end  plate  of  nerve 
0     .  .  fibers Klein 

primarily  from  pressure  upon  tiny 

nerve-twigs,  such   as  are  here   represented.     More   than  all 


210  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

else  of  our  bodies  they  are  the  cause  of  our  most  exquisite 
joys  and  sorest  pain,  for  they  are  the  grand  inquisitors  set 
to  reward  and  punish  the  knights  templar  of  the  body. 

Thus  far  the  body  has  been  likened  to  a  modern  dwelling, 
constructed  with  all  possible  conveniences,  but  it  is  more 
than  that.  Truer  psychology  has  never  been  reached  than 
that  found  in  the  words  of  the  apostle  Paul,  selected  as  the 
motto  of  this  little  book.  The  body  was  designed  for  more 
than  a  mere  dwelling;  it  is  a  temple  as  well,  wherein  should 
dwell  the  knights  templar — of  the  red  cross  and  the  white. 
Of  all  the  tales  of  the  age  of  chivalry  none  is  more  poetic 
than  the  story  of  the  Knights  Templar,  a  religious  order 
founded  in  the  beginning  of  the  twelfth  century,  by  Hugues 
de  Paiens  and  other  French  knights.  It  originated  at  Jeru- 
salem, and  was  designed  to  protect  the  holy  sepulcher  and 
the  pilgrims  resorting  thither.  The  members  of  the  order 
bound  themselves  to  listen  to  the  holy  offices  daily,  and  to 
practice  fasting  four  days  in  the  week.  They  were  known 
as  the  Poor  Soldiers  of  the  Temple  of  Solomon,  and  at 
first  subsisted  entirely  upon  the  scanty  benevolence  of  the 
king  of  Jerusalem.  Later,  vast  donations  poured  in  upon 
them,  and  members  of  the  most  noble  families  in  Europe 
thought  themselves  honored  by  being  enrolled  among  the 
Knights  Templar,  and  being  allowed  to  wear  their  red  cross 
upon  their  shoulders. 

As  elsewhere,  the  wealth  and  power  of  the  Templars  at 
last  wrought  their  destruction,  for  their  luxury,  vices,  and 
arrogance  finally  gave  their  enemies,  Philippe  IV.,  and  Pope 
Clement  V.,  and  Edward  II.,  a  pretext  for  seizing  upon  the 
possessions  of  the  Knights  Templar  and  abolishing  the 
order. 

Doubtless,  they  had  outlived  their  day  of  usefulness,  and 
ceased  to  exist,  as  says  another,  because  "  they  were  rich  and 
had  nothing  to  do.  They  were  an  anachronism  and  a  source 
of  danger  at  the  time  of  their  dispersion,"  but  they  have 
left  us  many  things  worthy  of  remembrance  and  imitation. 

The  great  seal  of  the  order,  two  knights  mounted  on  a 


Telegraphs  and  Phones.  211 

single  horse,  is  not  an  inapt  symbol  of  the  tripartite  nature 
of  man — body,  soul,  and  spirit.  The  beast  well  represents 
the  body — essential  for  the  accomplishment  of  work,  and, 
when  held  in  check,  invaluable  ;  but,  left  unbridled,  a  v|ry 
Mazeppa's  steed  to  bear  us  to  sure  destruction.  Hence  the 
body  is  governed  by  two  masters,  mind  and  spirit,  which 
some  consider  a  sort  of  Siamese  twins,  but,  whatever  their 
exact  relationship,  they  are  the  rightful  governors  of  the  house 
in  which  we  live.  We  cannot  live  aright  without  their 
mutual  advice  and  aid.  A  body  directed  solely  by  the  mind 
becomes  as  polished  a  heathen  as  an  educated  Bramin,  and  one 
led  by  spirit  alone  gives  rise  to  the  vagaries  of  a  Joanna  South- 
cote.  Per  contra,  John  Wesley  is  an  excellent  illustration  of 
what  symmetrical  development  may  do  for  man.  John  Wes- 
ley's spiritual  insight  was  the  marvel  of  his  century  and  ours; 
but  it  should  also  be  remembered  that  intellectually  he  was 
justly  entitled  to  the  fellowship  which  he  received  and  held 
for  many  years  at  Oxford,  while  his  body  was  so  carefully 
cared  for  that  we  find  him  at  eighty-four  able  to  preach  at 
five  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  personally  to  attend  to  the 
annoying  details  of  a  church  organization  and  publishing 
interests  that  in  these  latter  days  require  the  services  of  a 
board  of  bishops  and  a  book  committee  to  look  after. 

Such  as  John  Wesley,  in  their  measure,  would  all  men  be 
if  they  cared  alike  for  mind,  spirit,  and  body.  The  ideal 
man  should  be  perfectly  developed  in  all  directions,  for  if 
any  part  of  man  is  neglected  it  becomes  stunted  and  useless. 
This  we  all  know  to  be  true  in  regard  to  mind  and  body,  but 
when  it  comes  to  spiritual  growth  we  find  it  too  often 
neglected  to  its  everlasting  injury.  "  The  soul  that  sinneth 
it  shall  die  "  is  as  much  a  part  of  the  laws  of  the  universe  as 
the  fiat  that  we  must  all  die.  We  witness  the  death  of  the 
body  so  often  that  the  fact  cannot  be  denied,  but  a  similar  re- 
sult in  regard  to  the  soul's  death  can  be  as  certainly  demon- 
strated. Our  large  cities  are  full  of  men  and  women  whose 
souls  have  been  dead  in  trespasses  and  sins  for  many  years. 
There  is  no  sadder  sight  on  earth  than  a  soul's  corpse  coffined 


212  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

in  the  bloated  wreck  of  a  body.  Alcohol  does  this.  It  is 
one  of  the  arch  Saracens  against  whom  the  body's  knights 
templar  must  wage  incessant  warfare,  as  well  as  other  fleshly 
lu^s  which  war  against  the  soul.  The  culture  of  the  mind 
and  spirit  belong  properly  to  psychology,  except  so  far  as 
they  influence  the  health  of  the  body.  And  this  they  do  in 
no  small  degree.  Just  how  this  is  done  may  be  difficult  to 
explain  without  falling  into  materialism,  but  the  fact  remains 
that  soul  and  body  are  in  this  world  mutually  dependent  one 
upon  another.  A  well-balanced  mind  is  rarely  found  excejDt 
in  a  sound  body,  and  there  is  a  whole  volume  of  theology  in 
Mrs.  Prentiss's  candid  statement  that  she  never  was  in  relis:- 
ious  gloom  except  when  she  had  eaten  something  that  did 
not  agree  with  her.  No  better,  or  more  devoutly  pious, 
woman  than  the  author  of  Stepping  Heavenward  ever  lived, 
but  she  was  honest  and  clear-sighted  enough  to  discover  that 
her  "  experience,"  not  religion,  was  largely  conditioned  by  her 
body's  health.  Similarly,  the  health  of  the  body  is  at  its  best 
when  the  mind  and  spirit  are  happily  employed.  For  phys- 
iological reasons,  if  no  other,  a  consistent,  well-educated 
Christian  ought  to  be  the  happiest  man  living,  if  sound  in 
mind,  body,  and  conscience,  for  he  has  learned  how  to  use 
all  his  "  talents  "  to  their  best  advantage,  and  has  ceased 
to  take  worry  for  the  morrow. 

"  Worry,"  far  more  than  overwork,  is  the  cause  of  the  fre- 
quent ill  health  and  the  premature  breaking  down  so  common 
in  our  large  cities.  The  haste  to  be  rich,  debt,  and  anxiety 
about  money  matters  whiten  more  heads  and  wrinkle  more 
faces  than  disease.  Any  occupation  which  keeps  one  oscil- 
lating between  hope  and  despair  inevitably  disturbs  the 
innervation  of  tlie  body  so  that  digestion  is  ruined  (see 
nervous  dyspepsia,  page  83),  and  sleep  becomes  a  lost  art. 
Little  wonder,  then,  that  under  these  circumstances  the  gen- 
eral nutrition  of  the  body  fails,  and  the  man  or  woman 
breaks  down,  it  is  said,  of  overwork.  Worry  would  have 
been  the  true  verdict,  for,  as  well  says  the  Saturday  Review, 
"  A  professor  may  labor  at  the  search  for  the  absolute  for 


Telegraphs  and  Phones.  213 

fifteen  hours  a  day  and  be  all  the  better  for  it,  while  a  third 
of  that  time  spent  in  the  ups  and  downs  of  the  stock  ex- 
change would  qualify  him  in  less  than  a  year  for  the  strait- 
jacket  or  halter.  .  .  .  Complaints  of  overwork  are  among 
the  flimsiest  of  all  excuses  set  up  by  men  for  the  evils  they 
have  brought  upon  themselves.  Very  few  people  really 
work  hard,  and  when  they  do  it  generally  agrees  with  them. 
Directly  and  indirectly,  idleness  does  fifty  times  as  much 
mischief  as  overwork.  A  vast  amount  of  good  pity  is  thrown 
away  in  the  world,  for  when  the  danger  really  exists  it  may 
generally  be  remedied  rather  by  redistributing  the  burden  than 
by  diminishing  it."  In  short,  the  danger  in  overwork  is  gen- 
erally not  in  the  amount  of  work,  but  in  bad  habits  of  work. 
Hurried  work,  work  at  the  wrong  time,  and,  more  than  both, 
worry  over  the  future  bring  men  to  untimely  disability  in 
the  ways  already  mentioned. 

The  remedy  for  these  evils  may  be  found  in  systematized 
work,  in  "  do  the  best  and  leave  the  rest,"  and,  most  of  all, 
in  the  biblical  advice  to  take  no  thought  (worry)  as  to  what 
we  shall  eat,  drink,  and  wherewithal  we  shall  be  clothed  ; 
not  the  least  important  of  which  is  the  last,  for  the  desire  to 
follow  the  fashions  in  clothing  drives  more  into  debt  than 
all  other  causes,  and  debt  means,  except  to  the  absolutely  un- 
principled, distressing  mental  worry  and  strain.  Debts  are 
the  most  frequent  causes  of  insanity  and  suicide,  for  nothing 
more  surely  upsets  the  whole  mental  balance  than  long-con- 
tinued and  pressing  debt.  A  mortgage,  etymologically,  means 
a  death-grip,  and  too  often  it  is  literally  that  as  well,  from 
the  effect  that  it  exerts  upon  the  health  of  the  body  by 
depriving  it  of  hope,  rest,  and  cheerfulness. 

How  it  is  that  the  mind  is  able  to  affect  the  nutrition  and 
health  of  the  body  we  do  not  know,  but  the  facts  are  beyond 
all  dispute  in  many  cases.  Indeed,  it  is  often  possible  for  a 
man  to  be  seriously  injured  during  the  excitement  of  battle, 
and  pay  no  heed  to  it  until  after.  Mr.  J.  B.  Gough  perma- 
nently injured  his  hand  during  a  lecture,  but  did  not  dis- 
cover the  fact  until  the  close  of  his  speaking.     Such  cases 


2 14  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

are  but  those  of  deferred  or  diverted  attention,  for  no  sooner 
i^  the  excitement  removed  than  the  pain  is  felt.  The 
same,  in  a  measure,  is  undoubtedly  true  of  the  religious  en- 
thusiasts of  the  East  who  prostrate  themselves  upon  the 
ground  to  allow  themselves  to  be  ridden  over,  or  thrust  sharp 
skewers  into  their  cheeks  and  red-hot  nails  into  their  palms 
apparently  without  pain.  The  history  of  all  people  is  full 
of  instances  where  religious  excitement  and  the  contagion 
of  example  have  rendered  enthusiasts  for  the  time  being  in- 
sensible to  ordinary  suffering.  The  priests  of  Baal  cut 
themselves  with  sharp  stones  in  the  frenzy  of  their  false 
religion,  as  the  flagellants  scourged  themselves  in  the  Middle 
Ages.  Similar  performances  may  be  seen  at  Mecca,  and  at 
some  of  the  East  Indian  religious  festivals;  for,  in  all  great 
gatherings  of  people  little  accustomed  to  self-control,  excite- 
ment and  the  imitative  faculty  lead  to  strange  actions.  The 
same  cause  that  induces  others  to  gape  by  the  suggestion  of 
our  yawning  produces  many  a  strange  antic  in  those  not  able 
to  keep  the  mastery  over  themselves.  To  this  impulse  the 
name  of  suggestion  has  been  given,  and  to  its  operations  we 
probably  owe  the  phenomena  of  mesmerism,  hypnotism,  and 
the  marvels  of  so-called  clairvoyance  and  mind-reading. 

Mesmerism,  so  named  from  a  Dr.  Mesmer,  who  first  inves- 
tigated the  subject,  was  the  term  originally  used  for  the  hyp- 
notic condition,  or  a  state  of  apparent  sleep  in  which  the  will  of 
the  one  mesmerized  is  to  all  intents  and  purposes  put  into  the 
hands  of  the  one  producing  the  hypnotism.  Thus  hypnotized 
the  victim  will  sing,  cry,  dance,  preach,  or  pray,  as  the  mes- 
merist wishes,  until  the  spell  is  broken.  Fortunately,  not  all 
can  be  thus  hypnotized,  and  probably  none  can  be  made 
susceptible  against  their  will.  The  mental  mechanism  of 
hypnotism  has  never  been  definitely  determined,  but  it  seems 
reasonable  to  believe  that  it  is  a  condition  of  affairs  in  which 
the  will  is  held  in  abeyance  and  the  brain  left  to  act  solely 
by  suggested  thoughts.  Imagine,  if  you  please,  a  ship  with 
its  helmsman  drugged  but  still  able  to  stand  at  the  wheel  and 
automatically  to  do  the  bidding  of  some  one  who  stands  be- 


Telegraphs  and  Phones.  215 

hind  him,  and  you  have  a  fair  comparison  to  illustrate  this 
hypnotic  condition.  It  is  useless  and  harmful,  for  it  has  never 
been  productive  of  any  valuable  results,  and  tends  to  weaken 
already  impaired  will-power,  and  might  be  utilized  for  actual 
crime.  Experimentation  in  this  line  should  be  strongly  dis- 
couraged, for  it  can  bring  out  no  new  facts  and  may  inflict 
serious  injury — moral,  if  not  physical. 

Clairvoyance,  beyond  a  doubt,  is  another  manifestation 
of  this  same  impulse,  for,  behind  all  the  arrant  fraud  of  the 
majority  of  the  so-called  clairvoyants,  there  is  a  power  pos- 
sessed by  some  of  following  most  ingeniously  the  suggested 
thoughts  of  the  questioner — only  that  and  nothing  more. 
A  careful  study  of  their  most  wonderful  exploits  will  show, 
so  far  as  the  writer  has  been  able  to  inform  himself,  only  re- 
productions of  thoughts  or  facts  known  to  the  one  seeking  the 
clairvoyant's  aid.  Many  of  these  thoughts  may  be  but  dimly 
remembered,  but  if  false,  or  falsely  recalled,  the  clairvoyant 
falls  into  the  same  mistake. 

Catherine  Beecher  years  ago  carefully  investigated  the 
subject,  and  her  results  are  the  same  as  those  obtained  by 
all  candid  investigators.  We  quote  her  experience  in  her 
own  words: 

"  Early  in  December,  1844,  having  heard,  through  most  re- 
liable persons,  of  the  performances  of  a  clairvoyant  woman 
in  Boston,  I  wrote  to  my  family  friends  in  various  States, 
east  and  west,  that  I  should  go  to  that  city  on  the  23d  day 
of  that  month,  and  visit  this  woman  between  the  hours  of  9 
and  12  A.  M.;  and  I  requested  them  all  to  note  down  what 
they  were  doing  at  that  time,  and  also  to  write  a  sentence  and 
lav  it  on  the  mantel-shelf  of  their  sitting-rooms. 

"  I  went  on  that  day,  no  person  in  the  city  knowing  that  I 
was  to  be  there.  I  went  from  the  cars  to  this  woman,  whom 
I  had  never  seen.  None  of  her  family  knew  me  or  I  them, 
and  I  did  not  give  my  name.  She  was  put  in  the  clairvoyant 
state,  and  then  I  was  left  alone  with  her." 

Without  giving  in  detail  Miss  Heecher's  conversation  with 
the  clairvoyant,  which   may  be  found   in  her   Letters  to  the 


216  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

People  on  Health  and  Happiness,  it  is  sufficient  to  say  that 
the  clairvoyant  described  correctly  every  minute  particular 
concerning  certain  houses  and  their  occupants  in  Hartford 
with  which  Miss  Beecher  was  acquainted,  but  entirely  failed 
in  a  crucial  test  thus  proposed  by  Miss  Beecher: 

"  I  then  asked  her  to  look  on  the  mantel-shelf  below,  and  see 
if  there  was  a  paper  with  writing  on  it.  She  then  continued 
thus:  'There  is  some  writing  pinned  to  the  wall  over  the 
mantel.  It  is  too  small.  It  ought  to  be  written  larger.  You 
told  them  to  do  this.  The  first  words  are:  "  The  babt/s  name 
is — "  I  cannot  read  it,  it  is  too  small.' 

"  ''Try  /'  said  I,  with  greatly  excited  interest.  She  grasped 
her  hands  tightly  together,  and  shook  all  over,  as  if  making 
a  great  effort.  Then  she  said,  '  Yes,  I  see  it.  It  is  written, 
"  The  baby's  name  is  George."  ' 

"  Now  every  minute  particular  as  to  the  people,  house,  and 
furniture  corresponded  with  my  past  experience.  But  this 
matter  about  the  writing  was  all  concocted  by  herself  from 
materials  in  my  past  knowledge.  For  the  baby's  name  was 
not  George,  and  there  was  no  paper  prepared  as  I  had  re- 
quested. Nor  was  I  conscious  of  thinking  that  the  child,  if 
a  boy,  would  be  called  George  after  the  child  that  was  dead. 
Indeed,  I  should  not  have  supposed  that  this  would  be  the 
ca>e." 

Such  mental  echoes  add  nothing  to  the  sum  of  human 
knowledge,  and  are  dangerous  from  their  opportunity  to  fraud, 
as  has  been  over  and  over  again  proven.  There  may  be 
honest  clairvoyants  and  spirit-rappers,  but  their  feats  are  per- 
formed under  surroundings  better  adapted  for  fraud  than  any 
professional  magician  would  ask.  Many  of  the  tricks  of  these 
so-called  mediums  are  startling,  but  they  have  all  been  dupli- 
cated and  excelled  by  those  who  make  no  pretense  of  any 
higher  powers  than  sleight  of  hand. 

Dreams  are  less  explicable  than  the  clairvoyant's  feats. 
The  latter,  deprived  of  the  gross  amount  of  fraud  mixed 
with  the  larger  part  of  them,  are,  when  any  thing  more 
than  fraud,  the  interpretation  of  another's  thoughts  into  the 


Telegraphs  and  Phones.  217 

medium's  words.  Hence  it  is  that  the  hypochondriac  is  sure 
to  find  "  the  seventh  son  of  a  seventh  son "  agreeing  with 
him  in  his  own  ideas  of  his  ailments,  even  if  unexpressed. 
Those  that  agree  with  us  we  are  ready  to  adjudge  wise,  and 
hence  the  number  of  victims  who  fall  ready  prey  to  these. 
But  whence  come  the  suggestions  from  which  originate  dreams, 
and  why  do  we  dream  at  all  ?  Sleep  has  been  defined  by 
some  one  as  the  victory  of  the  sympathetic  over  the  cerebro- 
spinal system.  Less  technically,  it  may  be  said  to  be  brain 
and  body  rest,  produced  most  probably  by  a  periodic  lessen- 
ing of  the  supply  of  blood  sent  to  the  brain.  Eating  a 
hearty  meal  attracts  the  blood  from  the  brain  to  assist  in 
digestion,  and  hence  the  drowsiness  that  comes  to  many  after 
a  full  meal.  Perfect  sleep  is  "sore  labor's  bath,  balm  of  hurt 
minds,  chief  nourisher  in  life's  feast,"  and  should  be  dream- 
less, or  that  from  which  we  awake  without  remembrance  of 
having  dreamed.  Thought,  memory,  and  conscience  ought 
all  to  slumber  when  sleep  "  knits  up  the  raveled  sleeve  of 
care,"  but  too  often  mind  and  spirit  labor  too,  while  the 
wearied  body  is  trying  to  sleep  and  we  dream. 

Dreaming  is,  then,  involuntary  mental  action,  while  the 
body  is  cut  off  from  its  ordinary  avenues  of  sensation.  So 
we  often  say  and  think,  and  yet  it  is  more  frequently  true 
than  we  think  that  dreams  are  bodily  sensations  misinter- 
preted by  the  dazed  and  bewildered  brain.  For  instance, 
Dr.  O.  W.  Holmes  says:  "  I  once  inhaled  a  pretty  full  dose 
of  ether  with  the  determination  to  put  on  record  at  the 
earliest  moment  of  regaining  consciousness  the  thought  I 
should  find  uppermost  in  my  mind.  .  .  .  The  veil  of  eter- 
nity was  lifted.  The  one  great  truth  which  underlies  all 
human  experience,  and  is  the  key  to  all  the  mysteries  which 
philosophy  has  sought  in  vain  to  solve,  flashed  upon  me  in  a 
sudden  revelation,  .  .  .  and  staggering  to  my  desk  I  wrote 
in  ill-shaped,  straggling  characters  the  all-embracing  truth 
still  glimmering  in  my  consciousness.  The  words  were  these 
(children  may  smile;  the  wise  will  ponder):  *  A  strong  smell 
of  turpentine  prevails  throughout.'" 
10 


218  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

And  why  should  not  both  children  and  wise  men  smile  ?  for 
the  witty  doctor  had  scribbled  his  ludicrous  sentence  while  he 
was  but  half  awakened  from  a  grandiloquent  dream,  produced 
by  the  pungent  odor  of  the  ether.  Thought  works  with  almost 
inconceivable  rapidity  in  the  case  of  these  suggested  dreams. 
The  report  of  a  gun  may  between  the  time  of  its  sound  and 
the  awakening  of  the  dreamer  give  rise  to  a  three  volume 
novel  in  the  mind  of  the  sleeper.  It  is  almost  incredible 
what  a  multitude  of  ideas  may  under  certain  circumstances 
follow  each  other  with  surprising  celerity.  What  books  we 
have  written,  what  orations  delivered  and  dramas  enacted  in 
our  minds,  while  we  are  vainly  trying  to  grasp  the  idea 
that  it  is  time  to  get  up,  or  shivering  from  an  exposed  limb, 
or  uncomfortable  from  dining  not  wisely,  but  too  well.  The 
last  is  extremely  prone  to  produce  unpleasant  dreams — night- 
mares, so-called,  though  why  it  is  hard  to  say — from  the  an- 
noyance of  the  undigestible  food,  mistaken,  perhaps,  by  the 
half-awakened  brain  for  the  prince  of  darkness  sitting 
astride  the  dreamer.  Eating  a  light  meal  just  before  retiring 
does  not  interfere  with  sleep,  provided  the  food  is  such  that 
it  is  easily  digested ;  for,  as  has  already  been  said,  normal  diges- 
tion aids  sleep,  and  a  late  meal  is  the  best  treatment  for  the 
insomnia  of  night  and  brain  workers. 

Not  a  little  valuable  literary  work  has  been  done  in 
sleep.  Coleridge's  Kubla  Khan  was  thus  written,  as  was 
Tartini's  DeviiVs  Sonata.  One  of  Lord  Thurlow's  best  Latin 
compositions  was  thus  dreamed  out  and  Cordorcet  and  Frank- 
lin— hapnjmen! — were  said  to  have  been  able  to  work  out 
elaborate  mathematical  calculations  after  the  same  fashion. 
In  these  cases,  as  in  the  mathematical  prodigies  which  are 
occasionally  met  with,  the  brain  undoubtedly  acts  automat- 
ically, like  one  of  the  patent  automatic  adding  machines.  In 
the  innumerable  multitude  of  dreams  it  would  be  strange  if 
some  of  them  did  not  occasionally  come  true,  and  probably 
every  one  has  had  such  coincidences  in  his  own  experience. 
History  is  full  of  notable  examples,  as  the  famous  one  of  the 
Prince  of  Conde,  who   dreamed   just  before  the   battle    of 


Telegraphs  and  Phones.  219 

Dreux  that  he  engaged  in  three  battles,  in  which  he  was  suc- 
cessively victorious,  and  that  his  victories  would  cost  his 
enemies  their  three  chief  officers  ;  and  that  after  these  victo- 
ries he  himself  should  be  slain  ;  all  of  which  was  afterward 
realized  exactly  as  dreamed.  There  is  a  copious  literature  on 
such  realization  of  dreams,  and  of  the  appearance  of  those 
dead,  about  the  time  of  their  death,  to  dreaming  friends, 
whose  discussion  belongs  to  psychology  rather  than  physiol- 
ogy, and  must  be  here  dismissed  with  the  thought  that  there 
may  be  "  more  things  in  heaven  and  earth  than  are  dreamed 
of  in  our  philosophy." 

The    explanation  of   somnambulism  is    less    difficult,    for 
sleep-walking    is   a  sort    of   intermediate    station    between 
hypnotism  and  dreaming.     It  differs  from  the  first  in  that 
the  actions  performed  are  voluntary  with  the  one  perform- 
ing them,  and  differs  from  dreaming  in  that  the   acts  are 
actually  done,  and  not  merely  willed,  as  is  the  case  in  dream- 
ing.    In  the  latter  we  have  the  combined  action  of  the  will 
and  the  imagination  only,  while  in  somnambulism  we  have  the 
assistance  of  the  voluntary  muscles  as  well.     The  sleep-walker 
usually  has  absolutely  no  remembrance  of  what  he  has  done; 
occasionally  he  will  remember  his  performances  as  those  of 
an  unusually  distinct  dream,  unless  he  is  suddenly  awakened 
in  the  midst  of  his  actions,  when  he  generally  is  unable  to 
give  any  rational  account  of  himself.     Some  of  the  exploits 
of  somnambulists  are  so  extraordinary  that  they  can  hardly  be 
explained— except  upon  the  theory  of  a  sixth  sense,  which 
takes  cognizance  of  form  and  distance  without  sight.     How 
otherwise,  for  instance,  can  be  explained  their  perilous  night 
walks  with  safety  along  the  ridge  of  a  roof  where  one  could 
scarcely  venture  with  his  eyes  wide  open  ?     More  remarkable 
are  the  apparently  well  authenticated  cases  of  letters  written, 
pictures   drawn,    and    needle-work   done    accurately   in   the 
dark   by  somnambulists,   who  for  the   time  were    like    the 
idols  of  Scripture,  in  that  having  eyes  they  see  not,  in  the  or- 
dinary acceptation  of  the  term,  and  yet  are  able  to  work  as- 
if  they  were  blessed  with  the  keenest  of  sight. 


220  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

Another  strange  mental  freak  is  that  of  dual  existence,  so 
called,  in  which  the  person  thus  afflicted  leads  a  double  ex- 
istence for  a  part  of  the  day  or  week,  being  entirely  uncon- 
scious of  what  was  done  in  the  other  half  of  his  existence, 
but  able  to  take  up  the  change  of  thought  and  work  with  the 
passage  from  one  condition  to  another.  Such  cases,  fort- 
unately, are  rare,  and,  if  explicable  at  all  by  physiology,  are 
explained  by  an  independent  action  of  the  two  halves  of  the 
brain. 

Possibly  these  are  simple  cases  of  intermittent  memory, 
from  whose  lapses  we  all  suffer.  It  is  doubtful  if  we  ever 
forget  entirely  any  thing  which  we  ever  thoroughly  knew, 
but  men  differ  greatly  in  their  ability  to  recall  desired  infor- 
mation. Often  the  harder  we  try  the  less  successful  we  are  in 
our  efforts,  so  that  often  the  best  way  in  which  to  accomplish 
our  end  is  to  allow  the  brain  automatically  to  work  out  the 
problem  for  us.  Napoleon  said  that  his  mind  was  a  case  of 
drawers,  of  which  he  could  pull  out  or  shut  up  any  one  as  he 
desired;  but  the  mental  chiffoniers  of  many  men  have  become 
wedged  from  disuse.  Fortunately,  the  brain  will  coax  open 
these  refractoiy  drawers  if  we  will  but  give  it  time.  Quietly, 
and  unconsciously  to  ourselves,  the  lock  is  at  last  turned,  and 
the  desired  fact  lies  open  to  our  scrutiny.  Such  seems  to 
have  been  the  process  by  which  Sir  William  Hamilton  discov- 
ered the  relation  of  quaternions.  "  I  was  walking,"  says 
he,  "on  the  15th  of  October,  1843,  with  Lady  Hamilton, 
when  on  reaching  Brougham  Bridge  I  felt  the  galvanic  circle 
of  thought  close,  and  the  sparks  that  fell  from  it  were  the 
fundamental  relations  between  i,  j,  and  k."  This  is  done  by 
unconscious  cerebration,  begotten  of  repeated  practice. 

The  great  value  of  all  education  lies  in  the  fact  that  we  can 
at  last  do  with  facility  what  at  first  was  difficult  and  painful. 
The  school-girl  laboriously  fingering  "  Days  of  Absence " 
may,  if  she  please,  learn  to  play  almost  unconsciously  most  dif- 
ficult music  and  keep  her  mind  fixed  upon  other  subjects  at  the 
same  time.  So  it  is  with  knitting,  type-setting,  stenography, 
or  any  pursuit  which  requires  manual  dexterity;  and   the 


Telegkaphs  and  Phones.  221 

same  in  a  measure  is  true  of  intellectual  work,  in  which 
practice  is  all  important.  Anthony  Trollope's  financial  success 
as  a  novelist  was  due  to  his  invariable  practice  of  writing 
daily  twenty-five  hundred  words  of  a  projected  story,  no 
matter  where  or  what  his  surroundings  were.  This  he  did  in 
the  midst  of  a  busy  official  life,  which  many  another  man 
would  have  thought  more  than  sufficient  for  his  waking 
hours.  Thackeray,  with  far  more  genius,  was  always  in  the 
drag  with  his  writings  and  finances,  simply  because  he  had 
never  learned  Trollope's  habits  of  literary  thrift. 

"  Habit  is  second  nature,  and  man  is  a  bundle  of  habits." 
Habits  of  some  kind  we  must  have;  all  have  some  more  or 
less  useless  and  ludicrous.  Schiller  thought  he  could  not 
write  well  unless  he  had  the  odor  of  rotten  apples  in  his 
room.  Dr.  Johnson  must  touch  each  lamp-post  as  he  swayed 
along  the  streets  of  London,  and — but  who  is  there  who 
has  not  some  odd  trick  of  gesture  or  manner  that  he  carries 
with  him  through  life  ?  The  vast  majority  of  these  habits 
are  formed  between  twenty  and  thirty,  or,  as  Lord  Colling- 
wood  put  it,  "  Before  you  are  five-and-twenty  you  must 
establish  a  character  that  will  serve  you  all  your  life ;  "  for 
fortunately  good  habits  become  as  strongly  fixed  as  evil  ones, 
of  which  we  hear  vastly  more.  "  Habits  are  a  necklace  of 
pearls,"  says  the  Russian  proverb,  and  such'  they  are  if  they 
are  habits  of  self-respect,  self-help,  industry,  integrity,  and 
decision.  There  is,  says  the  Popular  Science  Monthly,  "  no 
more  miserable  being  than  one  in  whom  nothing  is  habitual 
but  indecision,  and  for  whom  the  drinking  of  every  cup,  the 
time  of  rising  and  going  to  bed,  and  the  beginning  of  every 
bit  of  work  are  subjects  of  express  volitional  deliberation. 
Full  half  the  time  of  such  a  man  goes  to  the  deciding  or  re- 
gretting of  affairs  which  ought  to  have  been  so  thoroughly 
ingrained  in  him  as  practically  not  to  exist  for  his  conscious- 
at  all." 

The  great  thing,  then,  in  all  education,  is  to  make  auto- 
matic and  habitual  as  early  as  possible  as  many  useful 
actions  as  we  can.     The  more  of   the  details  of  our  daily 


222  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

life  we  can  hand  over  to  the  infallible  and  effortless  custody 
of  automatism  the  more  our  higher  powers  of  mind  will 
be  set  free  for  their  own  proper  work."  Habits,  if  good,  are 
conservative  and  helpful  even  though  they  may  seem  ludicrous 
to  others  with  their  different  ways  of  thinking  and  doing. 
Bad  habits  degrade  by  destroying  little  by  little  self-respect, 
until  at  last  their  victim  is  bound  in  chains  that  he  finds  him- 
self unable  to  break,  for  habit  has  wound  itself  about  him 
until  it  has  become  an  integral  part  of  himself. 

The  comfort  or  wretchedness  of  our  residence  in  this  house 
in  which  we  live  turns  largely  upon  our  habits — personal, 
mental,  and  moral.  If  they  are  those  of  Peter  the  First,  the 
man  is  an  animal — that  is  all.  His  stable  may  be  decorated 
with  all  that  the  wealth  of  the  Russias  can  buy,  but  after  all  it 
is  a  stable,  and  no  amount  of  whitewash  or  outside  gilding 
can  make  it  any  thing  else.  Nor  is  the  body  designed  merely 
for  a  literary  work-shop.  A  library  is  a  more  enjoyable  spot 
than  a  menagerie,  but  the  body  was  given  to  us  for  other 
purposes  than  mere  culture.  Culture  is  better  than  barbar- 
ism, but  culture  is  not  God,  and  men  and  women  were  born 
to  worship  God,  not  culture.  The  only  satisfactory  explana- 
tion of  the  body  is  that  given  by  St.  Paul,  already  quoted  ; 
namely,  "  Know  ye  not  that  ye  are  the  temple  of  God,  and 
that  the  spirit  of  God  dwelleth  in  you.  If  any  man  defile  the 
temple  of  God,  him  shall  God  destroy,  for  the  temple  of  God 
is  holy,  which  temple  ye  are." 

Science  and  revelation  join  hands  over  this  declaration  of 
the  apostle.  The  body  is  too  magnificent  a  piece  of  work- 
manship to  lodge  an  animal.  It  is  fit  to  be  the  temple  of  its 
maker.  It  ought  to  be,  or  it  misses  pitifully  the  end  for 
which  it  was  built,  and  with  the  failure  comes  the  penalty. 
Whatever  science  may  fail  to  corroborate  in  the  way  of  rev- 
elation, it  is  not  at  the  point  of  penalty.  "  Whatsoever  a 
man  soweth,  that  shall  he  also  reap,"  is  the  emphatic  teaching 
of  science,  and  nowhere  is  this  more  pitilessly  true  than  in 
regard  to  certain  sins  against  the  body.  It  is  literally  true 
that  such  sins  bring  certain  destruction  to  those  who  thus  de- 


Telegraphs  and  Phones.  223 

file  the  temple  of  God.  It  would  be  far  pleasanter  to  pass 
such  by  without  mention,  but  their  frequency  forbids.  Bad 
men  and  women,  and  worse  pictures  and  books,  abound  for  the 
avowed  purpose  of  defiling  the  temple  of  God  with  worse 
than  Pompeiian  frescoes;  and  the  time  has  come  when  it  is  no 
longer  right  to  keep  silence  on  temptation*  which  menace 
even  the  school-boys  and  girls  of  this  country.  The  evil  can- 
not be  met  too  early,  nor  too  fiercely.  Its  aims  are  diabolical, 
and  its  results  are  such  as  to  make  the  angels  weep.  The 
large  majority  of  fallen  men  and  women  go  astray  before 
they  are  fourteen.  Ignorance  is  not  safety,  for  the  only 
way  in  which  this  evil  can  be  met  is  by  conjoined  effort — 
mothers  with  daughters,  and  every  brave,  pure  man  and 
boy  in  the  White  Cross  League.  The  Knights  of  the  Red 
Cross  fought  to  save  from  desecration  the  holy  sepulcher; 
the  aim  of  the  Knights  of  the  White  Cross  of  to-day  is 
to  save  from  defilement  the  "temple  of  God,  .  .  .  which 
temple  ye  are." 

There  is  a  touching  little  story  in  medieval  Latin  of  a  sick 
pauper  who  came  to  the  operating  room  of  a  renowned  surgeon 
of  those  days.  The  great  man,  who  thought  he  could  not  waste 
his  time  on  so  poor  a  patient,  turning  to  his  assistant  said, 
"Experiment  on  this  vile  body;"  whereat  the  poor  wretch — 
for  it  was  before  the  days  of  anaesthetics — pleaded,  "  No  body 
is  vile  for  which  Christ  was  not  ashamed  to  die."  "  Corpus 
7ion  tarn  vile  pro  quo  Christus  ipse  non  dedlgnatus  est  more" 
might  be  well  chosen  for  the  motto  of  the  modern  White 
Cross  Knights,  who  already  number  many  thousand,  although 
their  organization  dates  back  only  a  very  few  years.  The 
disappearance  of  the  knights  of  the  age  of  chivalry  has  left 
a  need  of  like  self-sacrifice  and  devotion  by  some  similar 
brotherhood.  This  the  White  Cross  Knights  promise  to  fill, 
making,  if  possible,  social  purity  as  binding  upon  man  as 
woman.  The  White  Cross  obligations,  as  may  !)<•  seen,  are 
few  and  simple,  and  all  true  men  and  women  should  bid 
them  Godspeed  in  their  efforts  to  make  the  world  better  and 
purer. 


224  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 


White  Cross  Obligations. 

My  strength  is  as  the  strength  of  ten, 
Because  my  heart  is  pure. 

"  I  promise  to  treat  all  women  with  respect,  and  to 
endeavor  to  protect  them  from  wrong  and  degradation. 

"  I  promise  to  endeavor  to  put  down  all  indecent  language 
and  coarse  jests. 

"  I  promise  to  maintain  the  law  of  purity  as  equally  bind- 
ing upon  men  and  women. 

"  I  promise  to  endeavor  to  spread  these  principles  among 
my  companions,  and  try  to  help  my  younger  brothers." 


Moth,  Rust,  and  Microbes.  225 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

MOTH,  RUST,  AND    MICROBES. 

It  must  not  be  forgotten,  in  our  study  of  the  human  body, 
that  it  is  a  chemical  compound  as  well  as  a  complex  piece  of 
machinery;  or,  rather,  the  organs  and  parts  of  a  human  body, 
like  every  thing  else  material,  are  composed  of  molecules 
and  subject  to  the  laws  which  govern  them.  And  what  are 
these  molecules  ?  The  word  means  literally  a  little  mass, 
but  is  used  in  chemistry  and  physics  with  the  more  exact 
meaning  of  a  little  mass  composed  of  two  or  more  atoms. 
"  A  molecule,"  says  Tidy,  "  is  the  smallest  possible  cluster 
of  atoms  existing  as  a  compound  and  capable  of  having 
an  independent  chemical  action."  The  molecules  are  then,  ac- 
cording to  these  definitions,  composed  of  atoms,  and  this 
leads  us  naturally  to  inquire  in  what  atoms  differ  from 
molecules.  The  name  will  help  us  to  an  answer.  Atom  is 
from  the  Greek,  and  means  uncutable.  The  atom  is  then 
the  uncutable  or  indivisible  part  of  the  molecule,  for  it  is 
at  least  possible  to  think  of  dividing  matter  until  its  further 
division  becomes  in  thought  impossible.  The  results  of  the  last 
divisions  of  all  matter  are  what  are  called  atoms.  One  miorht 
think,  from  the  infinite  variety  of  matter  with  which  we  are 
acquainted,  that  there  would  be  an  infinite  variety  of  atoms,  but 
chemists  believe  that  there  are  as  yet  not  more  than  seventy 
different  kinds  of  atoms  known,  although  these  are  found 
linked  together  in  an  almost  infinite  number  of  molecules. 
In  the  molecule  the  atoms  are  supposed  to  be  held  together 
by  chemical  affinity,  and  the  molecules  are  influenced  by 
other  forces.  These  molecules,  or  tiny  groups  of  atoms, 
even  in  the  firmest  stone,  are  supposed  never  to  be  abso- 
lutely quiet,  but  are  swaying  to  and  fro  with  a  motion 
10* 


226  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

varying  in  rapidity  with  their  attraction  or  repulsion  to- 
ward each  other.  If  this  attraction  is  strong,  they  constitute 
a  solid  in  which  they  can  be  lifted  together  in  mass ;  if  their 
attraction  is  less,  but  still  such  that  they  have  a  certain 
amount  of  cohesion,  the  molecules  then  form  a  liquid  ;  but  if 
there  is  absolutely  no  attraction  between  the  molecules,  but 
repulsion,  they  constitute  a  gas.  Heat  is  supposed  to  increase 
the  repulsive  powers  of  molecules,  and  hence  heat  will  trans- 
form a  liquid  into  a  gas,  as  we  do  whenever  we  boil  the 
water  in  the  kettle.  Cold  acts  in  an  exactly  contrary  way, 
for  cold  drives  the  molecules  nearer  together,  and  thus  trans- 
forms liquid  water  to  solid  ice. 

The  solids,  liquids,  and  gases  of  the  body  are  subject  to 
the  same  laws  of  physics  and  chemistry  as  matter  elsewhere, 
with  the  single  exception  of  that  strange  thing  we  call 
germinal  or  living  matter.  This  may  be  killed  by  heat, 
strong  acids,  alcohol,  and  a  variety  of  other  agents,  but  then 
it  becomes  dead  matter  and  subject  to  the  laws  of  dead 
matter.  So  long  as  it  lives  it  is  vital,  and  resists  the  forces 
and  powers  which  incessantly  assail  it.  The  wonder,  then, 
is  not  that  we  die,  but  that  we  are  able  to  live,  beset,  as 
we  are,  within  and  without,  with  foes  begotten  of  our 
own  bodies.  Resurrection,  Hume  claimed,  is  too  great  a 
miracle  to  be  believed  on  any  amount  of  testimony;  but 
modern  science  declares  that  life  is  more  marvelous  than 
resurrection,  for  the  power  requisite  to  set  the  perfectly  pre- 
pared machinery  to  running  again  is  feeble  compared  with 
the  intelligent  foresight  necessary  to  protect  it  from  the 
ceaseless  assaults  of  invisible  foes.  Man  is  in  exactly  this 
condition,  constantly  beset  by  an  innumerable  army  of  mol- 
ecules and  microbes,  which  no  man  can  see,  but  which  are 
none  the  less  persistent  in  their  onslaught,  until  at  last  the 
vital  tissues  give  up  the  unequal  contest  and  die,  as  did 
Arnold  of  Winkelreid.  This  defeat  we  call  death ;  and  we 
should  discriminate,  as  Huxley  has  done,  between  the  forms 
of  death  met  in  the  body.     There  is  : 

1.  "Local  death,  which   is  going  on    at   every   moment 


Moth,  Rust,  and  Microbes.  227 

and  in  most,  if  not  in  all,  parts  of  the  living  body. 
Individual  cells  of  the  epidermis  and  of  the  epithelium  are 
incessantly  dying  and  being  cast  off  to  be  replaced  by  others, 
which  are  as  constantly  coming  into  separate  existence. 
The  like  is  true  of  blood  corpuscles,  and  probably  of  many 
other  elements  of  the  tissues. 

"  This  form  of  local  death  is  insensible  to  ourselves,  and  is 
essential  to  the  due  maintenance  of  life.  But,  occasional])-, 
local  death  occurs  on  a  larger  scale,  as  the  result  of  injury, 
or  as  the  consequence  of  disease.  A  burn,  for  example,  may 
suddenly  kill  more  or  less  of  the  skin  ;  or  part  of  the  tissue's 
of  the  skin  may  die,  as  in  the  case  of  the  slough  which  lies 
in  the  midst  of  a  boil ;  or  a  whole  limb  may  die,  and  exhibit 
the  strange  phenomena  of  mortification. 

"  The  local  death  of  some  tissues  is  followed  by  their  re- 
generation. Not  only  all  the  forms  of  epidermis  and  epi- 
thelium, but  nerve,  connective  tissue,  bone,  and,  at  any  rate, 
some  muscles,  may  be  thus  reproduced,  even  on  a  large  scale. 
Cartilage  once  destroyed  is  not  restored. 

2.  "  General  death  is  of  two  kinds  :  death  of  the  body  as 
a  ichole,  and  death  of  the  tissues.  By  the  former  term  is 
implied  the  absolute  cessation  of  the  functions  of  the  brain, 
of  the  circulatory  and  of  the  respiratory  organs  ;  by  the 
latter,  the  entire  disappearance  of  the  vital  actions  of  the 
ultimate  structural  constituents  of  the  body.  When  death 
takes  place,  the  body,  as  a  whole,  dies  first,  the  death  of  the 
tissues  sometimes  not  occurring  until  after  a  considerable 
interval.     (See  page  47.) 

"  Hence  it  is  that,  for  some  little  time  after  what  is  ordi- 
narily called  death,  the  muscles  of  an  executed  criminal  may 
be  made  to  contract  by  the  application  of  proper  stimuli. 
The  muscles  are  not  dead,  though  the  man  is." 

Local  death  is  generally  painful,  for  its  efforts  are  con- 
sc -rvative  and  look  toward  the  repair  of  the  injured  part. 
General  death,  as  a  rule,  is  painless  at  the  last,  for  here  as 
elsewhere  nature  is  merciful  as  well  as  just,  and  does  the 
kindliest  thing   possible   for   our    best  good.     Mr.   Beecher, 


228  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

when  asked  how  he  expected  to  feel  when  he  came  to  die, 
answered,  more  truthfully  than  piously,  "  Stupid."  And 
it  is  to  this  merciful  state,  whatever  may  be  the  apparent 
agony  of  the  last  moments  of  dissolution,  that  we  at  last 
all  come. 

General  death  comes  in  one  of  three  ways,  says  Bichat ; 
either  death  beginning  at  the  heart,  death  beginning  at  the 
lungs,  or  death  beginning  at  the  head.  The  last  is  in 
reality  death  from  failure  of  circulation  or  respiration,  or 
both,  from  injury  to  the  centers  located  in  the  brain.  In  all 
such  cases  there  is  failure,  due  either  to  the  heart  or  lungs, 
to  properly  aerate  the  blood.  Failure  to  obtain  sufficient 
oxygen  results  in  an  undue  accumulation  of  carbon  dioxide 
in  the  blood,  and  carbon  dioxide  is  as  truly  an  anaesthetic,  in 
poisonous  quantities,  as  is  chloroform.  The  poison  may  pro- 
duce convulsive  movements  most  painful  to  witness,  but  their 
presence  is  conclusive  proof  that  the  dying  man  is  already 
narcotized  beyond  pain.  The  "  king  of  terrors "  is  most 
frightful  to  those  who  walk  through  the  "  valley  of  the 
shadow  of  death,"  but  at  last  his  arms  are  as  tender  and 
soothing  as  a  mother  hushing  her  tired  child  to  sleep.  The 
moral  questions  which  may  have  been  left  unanswered  until 
death  may  prove  the  source  of  the  most  torturing  anguish, 
but  at  last  there  comes  merciful  oblivion.  One  with  many 
opportunities  for  observation  on  this  subject  says  : 

"  I  have  talked  with  persons  who  have  been  poisoned,  or 
who  have  poisoned  themselves,  and  who  may  be  said  to  have 
died,  inasmuch  as  they  have  fully  decided  and  expected  to 
die.  They  very  rarely  suffered  in  body  or  mind,  and  they 
lost  their  senses  as  gradually  as  when  laying  their  head  upon 
the  pillow  at  night.  Whatever  pain  they  had  was  not  in  going 
from  but  in  coming  back  to  life,  which  would  make  it  seem 
that  the  arrowheads,  directing  to  death,  wound  only  those 
anxious  to  return.  We  have  on  record  the  ante-mortem 
diaries  of  men  who,  having  swallowed  poison  with  the  delib- 
erate purpose  of  suicide,  had  wished  to  leave  a  record  of  the 
effect  upon  themselves  of  the  conscious  approach  of  death. 


Moth,  Rust,  and  Microbes.  229 

Most  of  these  diaries  show  the  surprise  of  the  writers  at  the 
total  absence  of  the  awe  or  fear  commonly  believed  to  be  in- 
separable from  such  circumstances.  Doubtless  the  deter- 
mination of  self-extinction  had  absorbed  the  anticipated 
strangeness,  and  discounted  the  impressiveness  and  solemnity 
of  the  mortal  occasion.  It  is  natural  to  die,  but  hardly  nat- 
ural to  desire  to  die.  To  will  to  die  is  all  there  is  of  death. 
To  be  killed  outright  by  a  gun-shot  wound  must  certainly  be 
easy.  I  have  seen  so  many  men  slain  in  battle  that  I  am 
sure  of  this.  I  have  narrowly  watched  officers  struck  when 
leading  a  charge.  Their  faces  evinced  startled  surprise,  not 
anguish,  and  their  nervous  system  received  such  a  shock  that, 
before  sensation  could  rally,  they  had  ceased  to  breathe. 
To  say  that  a  man  suddenly  put  out  of  life  by  violence  does 
not  know  what  hurts  him  is  exactly  true.  He  is  dead  with- 
out thought  of  death,  and  therefore  spared  all  mental  appre- 
hension, which  is  the  worst  part  of  dying.  Abrupt  death  by 
external  agencies  must  be  very  analogous  to  the  shock  from 
a  Leyden  jar." 

Nor  is  death  an  exception  to  the  general  law  that  pain  is 
conservative.  Pain  is  the  alarm  given  us  whenever  the  foes 
of  the  body  are  assaulting  it  with  dangerous  intent.  It  is  the 
signal  that  the  line  of  battle  is  giving  way  somewhere,  un- 
der the  combined  pressure  of  earth,  air,  fire,  and  water ;  for 
against  all  these  man  must  incessantly  fight.  Hunger,  fatigue, 
cold,  and  thirst  are  points  at  which  these  enemies  crowd  the 
closest,  and  where,  if  relief  is  not  quickly  brought,  defeat  is 
certain.  Hunger  is  the  irrepressible  clamor  for  the  fruits  of 
the  earth,  which  must  be  wrested  from  it  at  the  point  of  the 
spade,  hoe,  and  the  knife,  or  we  die.  Fatigue  is  the 
inevitable  result  of  the  attraction  of  gravitation,  that  is,  the 
ever-present  weight  of  our  bodies,  conjoined  to  the  atmos- 
pheric pressure  of  fifteen  pounds  to  each  square  inch  of  its 
surface.  So  accurately  is  this  adjusted  we  never  notice  its 
pitiless  persistence  until  the  wearied  limbs  at  last  succumb. 
Fire  is  at  the  same  time  man's  best  friend  and  most  inexora- 
ble creditor.     Fire  is  essential  to  civilization,  but  civiliza- 


230  Physiology  and  Hygiexe. 

tion  demands  its  pound  of  flesh  for  every  forfeited  bond, 
and  these  are  many,  for  modern  society  demands  that  man 
shall  give  many  a  pledge  to  fortune.  Even  water,  without 
whose  aid  we  must  perish  in  a  few  short  hours,  may  serve,  as 
we  have  seen  (page  70),  to  introduce  within  the  camp  the 
most  treacherous  of  enemies.  Gravitation,  oxidation,  and  pois- 
oning from  within  and  without  are  some  of  the  foes  against 
which  this  warfare  must  constantly  be  waged.  To  these 
must  be  added  another,  and,  until  recently,  an  unsuspected, 
foe  of  man — the  microbes ;  a  barbarous  sort  of  Greek  word, 
invented  to  name  forms  of  life  too  minute  to  be  seen  except 
by  means  of  the  microscope.  The  part  that  these  tiny  be- 
ings play  in  fermentation,  decomposition,  and  disease  was 
little  dreamed  of  fifty  years  ago.  Within  that  time  these 
tiny  points,  less  in  size  as  a  rule  than  the  red  blood  corpuscle, 
have  revolutionized  all  our  ideas  and  theories  in  regard  to 
putrefaction  and  practical  hygiene,  and  bid  fair  to  do  the 
same  in  the  domain  of  practical  medicine. 

The  causes  of  the  decomposition  of  the  human  body  after 
death  were  vainly  sought  for  by  the  ancient  philosophers 
and  physicists,  of  whom  none  came  nearer  the  truth  than 
Van  Helmont,  who  attributed  it  to  the  loss  of  Varcliee,  or,  as 
we  now  call  it,  vital  force.  He  was  also  the  first  to  appre- 
ciate the  relation  between  the  air  and  putrefaction,  for  an 
organic  body,  entirely  preserved  from  contact  with  the  air, 
under  proper  precautions,  can  be  preserved  indefinitely. 
These  facts  were  apparently  well  known  to  the  Egyptians, 
and  utilized  by  them  in  the  preparation  of  their  mummies, 
and  also  by  the  Ethiopians,  if  we  can  believe  Herodotus's  tales 
in  reference  to  the  preservation  of  their  dead  in  glass.  Un- 
der ordinary  circumstances  exposure  of  a  body  to  light,  air, 
and  moisture  accomplishes  the  dissolution  of  its  soft  parts 
entirely  in  from  two  to  three  years,  and  in  so  far  as  air  is 
excluded  is  the  process  delayed.  This  was  strikingly  shown 
in  the  bodies  of  the  Etruscan  kings  found  some  years  ago  in 
their  sepulchers,  where  they  had  been  preserved,  protected 
from  the  atmosphere,  unchanged  for  hundreds  of  years  ;  but 


Moth,  Rust,  and  Microbes.  231 

no  sooner  was  air  admitted  than  these  bodies  began  to  crum- 
ble, and  in  a  few  hours  were  converted  into  unrecognizable 
dust.  The  same  principle  was  applied  to  the  preservation  of 
food  by  the  Romans,  for  canned  fruit  has  been  found  in 
Pompeii,  but  its  secret  was  forgotten  until  a  little  more  than 
a  hundred  years  ago,  when  Benjamin  Appert  demonstrated 
that  meat  sealed  in  air-tight  boxes,  after  being  heated 
so  as  to  expel  the  air,  would  keep  for  an  indefinite  length 
of  time  at  ordinary  temperatures.  On  this  depends  the 
modern  extensive  use  of  canned  meats,  for  it  is  well  known 
that,  after  having  been  heated  and  sealed  up  in  air-tight 
cans,  and  thus  protected  from  the  atmosphere,  meats  will 
remain  sweet  and  fresh  as  long  as  the  receptacle  remains 
air-tight.  For  many  years  it  was  supposed  that  the  oxygen 
of  the  air  was  the  sole  cause  of  the  spoiling  of  meats  and 
fruits ;  but  it  must  be  remembered  that  the  oxygen  of 
the  air  is  not  the  sole  cause  of  putrefaction,  for  it  has  been 
over  and  over  again  proven  that,  while  air  is  apparently  nec- 
essary to  begin  decomposition,  it  is  not  essential  to  its  con- 
tinuance after  it  has  once  begun;  and  hence  the  failure  of 
hermetically  sealed  coffins  to  prevent  decomposition.  The 
explanation  of  this  is  found  in  the  fact  that  putrefaction 
largely  depends  upon  microscopic  microbes  and  germs  con- 
stantly floating  in  the  atmosphere,  whose  growth  and  multi- 
plication take  place  whenever  they  are  deposited  by  the  air 
in  an  appropriate  soil  or  fluid,  among  the  best  of  which  are 
the  fluids  of  the  body.  With  a  good  microscope  (1,200 
diameters)  multitudes  of  microbes  may  be  found  in  the  mucus 
which  can  be  scraped  from  the  inside  of  the  cheeks  or  lips, 
as  spherical  or  oval  particles  with  multitudes  of  delicate 
filaments.  The  numbers  and  rapidity  of  multiplication  of 
these  bacteria  with  proper  food  is  almost  incredible,  for 
Cohn  has  shown  that  bacterial  reduplication  can  arise  in 
the  course  of  about  an  hour.  At  this  rate  a  single  bacte- 
rium would  produce  two  in  one  hour,  these  by  doubling 
would  increase  to  four  in  the  second  hour,  and  so  on  until 
in  the  lapse  of  three  days  the  scarcely  conceivable  figure  of 


232  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

4,772,000,000,000  would  be  attained.  Whence  do  they  come  ? 
Formerly  it  was  believed  by  spontaneous  generation  from 
decaying  matter,  for  the  ancients  entertained  the  wildest 
ideas  in  regard  to  the  origin  of  life.  Virgil  believed  that 
bees  were  produced  from  entrails,  and  Lepidus  that  mud 
and  heat  would  generate  crocodiles.  For  a  long  time  it  was 
believed  that  certain  birds  grew  upon  trees,  and  that  the 
flesh  of  a  duck  could  give  birth  to  an  owl.  Similarly,  ser- 
pents were  supposed  to  originate  from  the  spinal  cord,  and 
mice  to  be  spontaneously  begotten  by  sawdust  and  old 
rags.  Even  in  our  own  times  there  are  many  intelligent 
people  who  believe  that  a  horsehair  left  in  the  waters  of  a 
brook  will  be  transformed  into  the  thread-like  worm  that 
bears  its  name,  and  that  maggots  are  spontaneously  gener- 
ated in  decaying  meat,  although  two  hundred  and  twenty 
years  ago  Francesco  Redi  settled  the  question  definitely. 
Like  others,  he  had  seen  the  maggots  begotten  in  putrefying 
flesh,  but  unlike  many  others  he  observed  that  flies  invariably 
were  found  also  about  the  meat,  and  that  they  frequently 
alighted  upon  it.  Surmising  that  there  was  some  causal 
relation  between  these  flies  and  the  maggots,  he  covered 
meat  with  paper,  and  afterward  with  fine  gauze,  and  found 
that  no  maggots  were  developed — naturally  enough,  for  it 
is  well  known  to-day  that  maggots  are  the  half-developed 
progeny  of  flies. 

These  facts  were  soon  overshadowed  by  the  greater  dis- 
coveries of  Leeuwenhock,  a  Dutch  microscropist,  who  discov- 
ered the  yeast  plant  and  certain  animalculae,  as  he  called 
them.  He  was  also  the  first  to  understand  that  the  turbid- 
ity which  occurs  in  animal  and  vegetable  infusions  was  due 
to  the  growth  of  these  minute  forms  of  life,  about  which 
immediately  sprang  up  most  vehement  controversies.  These 
at  first  were  mainly  about  fermentation,  for  although  the  yeast 
plant  was  discovered  and  figured  by  Leeuwenhock  as  early 
as  1680,  yet  its  true  nature  was  not  definitely  understood 
until  it  was  rediscovered  and  explained  in  1836  by  Cagniard 
de  la  Tour. 


Moth,  Rust,  and  Microbes.  233 

Lavoisier  and  other  chemists  had  previously  studied  atten- 
tively beer -yeast,  or  the  plant  which  produces  alcoholic 
fermentation  ;  but  it  was  reserved  for  Cagniard  de  la  Tour 
to  demonstrate  its  real  nature.  He  proved  that  yeast  is 
composed  of  granules  of  albuminous  matter,  which,  when 
introduced  into  a  saccharine  fluid,  there  grows  and  repro- 
duces itself.  This  is  done  by  gemmation,  as  it  is  called, 
that  is,  by  the  growth  of  buds  on  the  surface  of  the  yeast 
plant.  These  again  bud,  and  in  turn  produce  new  yeast 
plants.  Yeast  ferment  is  living,  since  the  plants  multiply 
themselves,  and  absorb  oxygen,  give  off  carbon  dioxide,  and 
produce  alcohol  from  the  sugar  during  the  process.  De  la 
Tour  furthermore  proved  that  if  the  saccharine  fluid  does 
not  contain  albuminous  matter  fermentation  still  takes  place, 
but  the  yeast  plant  exhausts  itself  in  the  process,  and  none 
remains  to  begin  it  anew  elsewhere.  The  next  question 
was,  Whence  came  this  yeast  plant?  for  fermentation 
takes  place  in  grape-juice  whether  the  yeast  plant  be  added 
to  it  or  not. 

Becker  much  earlier  had  taught  that  a  dead  body  attracts 
microscopic  eggs  from  the  air,  and  that  these  were  the  cause 
of  its  decomposition.  These  theories  and  that  of  an  astral  fire 
and  the  balsamic  spirit  of  the  blood,  which  resisted  putrefac- 
tion in  the  living  body,  were  considered  the  wild  dreams  of  a 
theorist  rather  than  practical  realities,  until  Schwann,  many 
years  later,  demonstrated  that  these  microscopic  eggs,  or 
spores,  as  we  now  call  them,  had  a  definite  existence,  and  that 
to  them  we  owe  the  changes  produced  by  fermentation  and 
putrefaction.  That  these  spores  are  always  present  in  the 
atmosphere  was  demonstrated  by  allowing  boiling  infusions 
to  communicate  with  the  air,  but  in  such  a  manner  that  no 
air  could  enter  the  flask  without  having  first  passed  through  a 
red-hot  glass  tube,  and  been  thus  freed  from  any  germs  that 
might  float  in  it.  In  this  case  the  air  had  fair  pJay,  in  a 
chemical  sense,  but  yet  no  life  of  any  kind  made  its  appear- 
ance, and  even  the  chemical  changes  failed  to  set  in.  Ex- 
actly similar  results  were  obtained   by  Schwann  in   experi- 


234  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

ments  with  grape-juice,  whether  previously  mixed  or  not 
with  yeast.  These  experiments  demonstrate  the  fact  that 
the  process  of  putrefaction  is  not  only  analogous  to  fermen- 
tation, but  that  putrefaction  cannot  take  place  without  the 
access  of  the  living  germs  constantly  floating  in  the  atmos- 
phere. 'But  he  carried  his  experiments  still  further.  For 
instance,  he  found  that  white  arsenic  (arsenious  acid)  and  cor- 
rosive sublimate,  being  poisonous  both  to  plants  and  animals, 
stop  both  putrefaction  and  fermentation,  while  extract  of 
mix  vomica,  being  destructive  to  animal  but  not  to  vegetable 
life,  prevents  putrefaction,  but  does  not  interfere  with  vinous 
fermentation. 

Justus  Liebig  published  a  memoir  in  1848  upon  the  sub- 
ject of  fermentative  changes,  in  which  he  reviewed  and 
brought  into  a  more  definite  form  Schwann's  theory.  He, 
too,  considered  all  fermentations  and  putrefactions  as  anal- 
ogous phenomena,  but  considered  yeast  a  "  purely  accidental 
phenomenon  "  in  vinous  fermentation,  and  thought  its  power 
of  promoting  the  fermentative  process  was  owing  to  the 
unstable  albuminoid  substances  it  contained. 

Schroeder  and  Dusch,  in  1854,  proved  by  an  extensive 
series  of  experiments  that  the  something  in  the  air  which 
enables  it  to  start  fermentative  changes  in  boiled  infusions 
of  meat,  etc.,  can  be  effectually  removed  by  filtration  of  the 
air  through  cotton-wool. 

Such  experiments,  carried  on  through  the  first  half  of 
the  present  century,  proved  that  the  intervention  of  air 
was  not  indispensable  to  putrefaction,  but  that  the  contact 
of  a  ferment  with  a  putrescible  body  was  sufficient  to 
bring  about  the  decomposition  of  the  latter.  Gay-Lussac 
combated  this  opinion,  and  attempted  to  prove  that  with- 
out air  or  oxygen  vinous  fermentation  could  not  begin, 
for,  said  he,  grape-juice  shut  off  from  access  to  the  air,  as 
in  a  test  tube  over  mercury,  does  not  undergo  fermentation; 
but  if  a  few  bubbles  of  air  or  oxj-gen  are  passed  into 
it,  fermentation  begins,  and  manifests  itself  by  the  evo- 
lution of   carbonic  acid  gas,  and  this  gas  occupies  exactly 


Moth,  Rust,  a\d  Microbes.  235 

the  same  volume  as  that  of  the  oxygen  which  has  been 
absorbed. 

Louis  Pasteur  first  carefully  discriminated  between  true  fer- 
ments and  the  germs  of  ferments.  Atmospheric  dust  is  made 
up,  in  the  greater  part,  of  earthy  matter  mixed  with  organic 
debris;  to  wit,  microscopic  spores  and  infusorial  eggs,  which 
latter  are,  according  to  Pasteur,  the  prime  agent  in  decompo- 
sition. Oxygen  is  not  the  motive  agent  in  these  decomposi- 
tions, as  affirmed  by  Gay-Lussac,  neither  do  the  nitrogenous 
atoms  of  the  atmosphere  play  the  important  part  in  decompo- 
sition, but  these  minute  organisms  which  possess  a  frightful 
power  of  multiplication.  Moreover,  he  showed  that  the  oxy- 
gen of  the  air  is  powerless  to  bring  about  these  alterations  if 
the  corpuscles  that  it  usually  contains  are  eliminated  or  in- 
cinerated. In  1864  the  French  Academy  chose  from  itself  a 
commission  which  repeated  the  experiments  of  Pasteur  and 
proved  their  exactness  by  taking  a  flask  filled  with  calcined 
air  and  attaching  it  to  a  tube,  whereby  a  partial  vacuum  may 
be  produced.  By  a  proper  arrangement  blood  was  drawn 
from  a  living  animal  directly  into  such  a  flask  without  coming 
in  contact  at  all  with  the  air;  and  such  blood  does  not  under- 
go putrefaction,  provided  the  air  in  the  flask  has  previously 
been  brought  to  a  red  heat. 

Further  experiments  conclusively  proved  that  the  develop- 
ment of  putrefaction  took  place,  not  from  the  gaseous  ele- 
ments of  the  air,  but  from  something  that  they  allowed  to 
fall  from  them  in  a  vertical  direction,  for  a  sterilized  fluid 
placed  in  a  flask  with  a  long  neck  laid  sideways  did  not  un- 
dergo putrefaction  until  the  neck  was  allowed  to  stand  up- 
right and  open  to  the  air.  To  isolate  this  matter  M.  Pasteur 
forced  the  aspirated  air  through  a  tube  filled  with%un-cotton, 
which  is  entirely  soluble  in  ether,  and  this  solution  showed  on 
the  slide  of  a  microscope  minute  bodies  now  known  to  be  the 
genus  or  ova  of  these  lower  forms  of  the  life.  There  is, 
then,  no  such  thing  as  spontaneous  generation,  but  only 
growth  and  reproduction  from  these  invisible  spores  floating 
every-whcrc    in    the    atmosphere.       Wherever  dust    is  found 


\ 


236  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

these  microscopic  germs  are  there  also;  and  wherever  dust 
settles,  there  these  spores  may,  under  favoring  circumstances, 
reproduce  themselves.  The  only  way  in  which  they  can  be 
entirely  removed  from  the  air  is  to  filter  it  through  many 
layers  of  cotton-wool,  or  to  heat  it  sufficiently  to  destroy  all 
these  organisms.  This  requires  a  heat  of  at  least  100  degrees 
C.  (2i2  degrees  F.),  although,  according  to  Tyndall's  experi- 
ments, the  same  result  may  be  at  last  obtained  by  inclosing 
air  for  a  considerable  length  of  time  in  a  glass  box  whose 
walls  are  smeared  with  glycerine.  A  ray  of  electric  light 
sent  through  the  space  within  the  box  shows  it  at  first  full 
of  the  same  floating  motes  that  can  be  seen  in  the  air  of 
our  living-rooms  but  little  by  little  these  subside  and  are 
caught  and  held  by  the  sticky  glycerine  until  at  last  the 
electric  spark  shows  that  the  air  is  clear  as  crystal  and 
absolutely  moteless.  The  air  upon  the  tops  of  high  mount- 
ains is  similarly  free  from  organic  germs,  and  hence  unable 
to  produce  purefaction,  for  without  germs  no  microbes  and 
without  microbes  no  putrefaction.  It  was  on  the  mountain 
top  of  the  Alps  that  Prof.  Tyndall  gave  spontaneous  gener- 
ation its  final  quietus,  by  a  series  of  experiments  worthy  of 
recital  here,  as  the  advocates  of  spontaneous  generation  have 
never  yet  met  or  disproved  them.  Prof.  Tyndall  took  thin 
turnip  slices,  barely  covered  them  with  distilled  water  at  a 
temperature  of  120  degrees,  and  after  allowing  it  to  stand 
four  or  five  hours  poured  off  the  liquid,  filtered  it,  and 
thus  obtained  a  clear  infusion.  This  was  sucked  into  sixty 
small,  clean,  empty  flasks,  with  long  necks,  projecting  side- 
ways, by  the  process  of  alternately  heating  and  cooling  the 
flasks.  Then  the  flasks  were  plunged  into  a  trough  filled 
with  oil,  ritad  the  contents  made  to  boil.  Finally,  the 
neck  of  the  flask  was  closed  by  heating  the  glass,  and  the 
flask  "  is  lifted  from  the  oil-bath  sealed  hermetically,"  that 
is,  from  the  air. 

"  The  flasks  are  then  taken  to  the  Alps,  seven  thousand 
feet  above  the  sea.  There  six  of  them  are  found  to  be  broken, 
and  the  infusion  within  is  found  to  be  muddy.     Air  has  en- 


Moth,  Rust,  and  Microbes.  237 

tered  through  the  broken  necks,  and  hence  this  muddiness. 
Examined  with  a  microscope  the  infusion  is  found  full  of 
organisms,  some  wabbling  slowly,  others  shooting  rapidly, 
across  the  microscopic  field.  They  dart  hither  and  thither 
like  a  rain  of  minute  projectiles  ;  they  pirouette  and  spin  so 
quickly  round  that  the  retention  of  the  retinal  impression 
transforms  the  little  living  rod  into  a  whirling  wheel." 

These  are  the  bacteria.  Has  this  multitudinous  life  been 
spontaneously  generated  in  these  six  flasks,  or  is  it  the  progeny 
of  living  germs  carried  into  the  flasks  by  the  entering  air  ?  If 
the  former  be  true,  how  does  it  happen  that  the  fifty-four  un- 
injured flasks  are  destitute  of  ail  forms  of  life  ?  Is  it  said 
that  the  air  itself  is  the  one  thing  needed  to  wake  up  the 
dormant  infusion?  He  solved  the  problem  after  this  fashion: 
Twenty-three  of  the  flasks  are  taken  to  a  hay-loft,  and  with 
a  pair  of  steel  pliers  their  sealed  ends  are  snipped  off.  At 
once,  of  course,  there  is  an  inrush  of  air.  Then  twenty-seven 
are  taken  to  a  ledge  overlooking  the  Aletsch  glacier,  about 
two  hundred  feet  above  the  hay-loft,  from  which  ledge  the 
mountain  falls  almost  precipitously  to  the  north-east  for 
about  a  thousand  feet,  with  the  following  results,  given  in 
TyndalFs  own  words  : 

"  A  gentle  wind  blows  toward  us  from  the  north-east — that 
is,  across  the  crests  and  snowfields  of  the  Oberland  Mountains. 
We  are,  therefore,  bathed  by  air  which  must  have  been  for  a 
good  while  out  of  practical  contact  with  either  animal  or 
vegetable  life.  I  stand  carefully  to  leeward  of  the  flasks, 
for  no  dust  or  particles  from  my  clothes  or  body  must  be 
blown  toward  them.  An  assistant  ignites  the  spirit-lamp, 
into  the  flame  of  which  I  plunge  the  pliers,  thereby  destroy- 
ing all  attached  germs  or  organisms.  Then  I  snip  off  the 
sealed  end  of  the  flask.  Prior  to  every  snipping  the  same 
process  is  gone  through,  no  flask  being  opened  without  the 
previous  cleansing  of  the  pliers  by  the  flame.  In  this  way 
we  charge  our  twenty-seven  flasks  with  clean,  vivifying 
mountain  air. 

"Now  note  the  result.     In  three  days  every  one  of  the 


238  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

twenty-three  flasks  opened  in  the  hay-loft  were  invaded  by 
organisms.  After  three  weeks'  exposure  to  precisely  the 
same  conditions  not  one  of  the  twenty-seven  flasks  opened  in 
the  free  air  but  is  as  clear  as  on  the  day  it  was  brought  from 
London. 

"What  is  the  conclusion  ?  Is  not  the  inference  imperative 
that  it  is  not  the  air  of  the  loft,  which  is  connected  by  a  con- 
stantly open  door  with  the  general  atmosphere,  but  something 
that  is  within  the  air  that  has  produced  the  observed  effects  ?  " 

This  "  something  "  is  the  microscopic  spores  or  germs,  al- 
ready described  by  Pasteur,  and  which  can  be  seen  floating 
in  every  ray  of  sunlight  let  into  a  darkened  room.  These 
spores  or  germs  are  produced  within  microscopic  plants  or 
animals,  from  which  they  escape  by  a  rupture  of  the  parent 
cell  wall,  and,  drying,  form  an  object  of  such  infinitesimal 
lightness  that  it  can  be  carried  hither  and  thither  and  every- 
where by  every  breath  of  air.  Any  ordinary  range  of  tem- 
perature does  not  affect  them,  but,  as  has  been  seen  in  Pas- 
teur and  Tyndall's  experiments,  they  can  be  destroyed  by  a 
heat  sufficient  to  bring  glass  to  redness.  Air  thus  treated  is 
said  to  be  sterilized,  a  term  that  is  also  applied  to  flasks  and 
other  instruments  similarly  treated  to  avoid  mistakes  in 
studying  these  minute  forms  of  life.  Spores  under  the 
microscope  are  bluish,  opalescent  bodies,  which  do  not  readily 
take  up  artificial  coloring  matter  unless  their  membranes 
have  been  previously  acted  upon  by  acids  or  a  great  heat. 
The  latter  is  sufficient,  as  has  already  been  said,  to  destroy 
their  vitality,  but  unless  thus  treated  they  preserve  their 
power  of  growth  on  the  average  about  three  years,  although 
Pasteur  claims  to  have  kept  them  vital  for  twenty-two  years 
in  hermetically  sealed  tubes.  For  the  growth  of  microbes 
from  these  spores  it  is  necessary  only  that  they  should  fall 
into  the  proper  soil.  Putrid  meat,  beef -tea,  or  any  vegetable 
or  animal  infusions  form  excellent  culture- fluids,  as  they  are 
called;  that  is,  liquids  well  adapted  for  the  rapid  growth  and 
multiplication  of  these  spores.  Latterly,  solids  have  been 
more  largely  employed  for  this  purpose,  on  account  of  the 


Moth,  Rust,  and  Microbes.  239 

difficulty  of  keeping  fluids  free  from  the  spores  of  all  but  one 
kind  of  the  lower  forms  of  life,  for  each  of  these  has  its  own 
particular  spore,  or  seed,  and  these  are  very  apt  to  be  found 
together.  All  spores  closely  resemble  each  other,  but,  like 
germinal  matter,  they  only  produce  after  their  own  kind,  as 
certainly  as  a  duck's  egg  never  hatches  out  any  thing  but  a 
duck. 


Various  Bacterial  Forms. 
1.  Micrococcus  septicus;  a,  scattered;  b,  in  chains— torula.  2.  Same  in  zooglcea 
form.  3.  Bacterium  termo.  4.  Same— zooglcea.  5.  Bact.  lineola.  6.  Bacillus  sub- 
tilis.  7.  Bacillus  anthracis  and  blood-corpuscles.  8.  Bacillus  (from  mouth)  with 
cilium.  9.  Bacillus  leprae.  10.  Bacilli  with  spores.  11.  Bacillus  malarise.  12.  Vibrio 
serpens.  13.  Spirochaete  Obermeieri.  14.  Spirillum  volutans.  15.  Sarcina.  X  500. 
(Copied  from  Ziegler's  path.  Anatomie,  Jena,  1882.) 

The  general  name  of  bacteria  (singular,  bacterium)  is 
applied  popularly  to  all  forms  of  life  produced  as  just  de- 
scribed. At  first,  they  were  known  as  animalculse  ;  later,  as 
infusoria  ;  at  present,  microbes  (little  lives)  is  their  proper 
scientific  name.  By  whatever  name  they  may  be  called,  they 
are  essentially  microscopic  bits  of  protoplasmic  matter,  whose 
place  in  the  scale  of  life  has  not  been  definitely  settled.  The 
Germans  call  them  "  spaltpilze,"  that  is,  split  or  divided 
fttligi,  and  such  they  are  in  so  far  as  they  have  no  chlor- 
ophyl,  or  the  greet)  coloring  matter  found  in  plants  proper. 
On  the  other  hand,  their  growth  is  more  like  the  algce,  or  sea- 
weeds,  than  the  true  fungi,  but  the  alga'  have  chlorophyl,  80 
it  is  impossible  to  group  the  microbes  with   them.     Most 


240  Physiology  and  Hygiexe. 

probably  microbes  form  a  group  by  themselves,  resembling 
the  plants  in  their  mode  of  growth,  but  like  animals  absorb- 
ing oxygen  and  excreting  carbon  dioxide  gas.  Wherever 
they  belong  these  microbes  are  infinitesimally  small  beings, 
without  nuclei  or  cell  walls,  almost  colorless  and  structureless. 
They  have  no  blood-vessels  or  nerves.  They  seem  to  be 
simple  protoplasmic  or  germinal  matter  with  the  same  power 
of  self-motion  possessed  by  the  white  blood  corpuscles. 
Some  of  them  have  minute  paddles  or  tails,  by  which  they 
proi^el  themselves  with  wonderful  rapidity  through  the  fluids 
in  which  they  live,  but  most  of  them  undulate  and  oscillate 
to  and  fro  without  any  visible  means  of  propulsion. 

So  nearly  colorless  and  structureless  are  the  microbes  that 
their  study  would  be  almost  impossible  without  the  aid  of 
the  coal-tar  colors.  The  black  refuse  from  the  main  of  a  gas- 
house  is  about  as  unlikely  and  unpromising  an  object  as  you 
will  often  meet  with,  to  be  of  any  real  value  to  man.  But 
chemistry  is  always  bringing  the  unlikely  to  pass,  for  the 
study  of  a  most  unpromising  subject  often  brings  brilliant  re- 
sults. A  common  ant  crushed  on  a  bit  of  blue  litmus  leaves 
a  red  stain,  and  from  that  red  stain  came  the  discovery  of 
chloroform.  The  red  stain  is  due  to  formic  acid,  from 
formic  acid  came  formyl,  and  from  formyl  came  its  terchlo- 
ride,  or  chloroform,  the  best  gift  that  ever  came  to  suffering 
humanity.  A  little  more  than  sixty  years  ago  a  chemist  by 
the  name  of  Unverdorben  found  a  coloring  matter  in  indigo, 
to  which  he  gave  the  n.irae  aniline,  from  the  Portuguese 
word  for  indigo.  It  was  a  discovery  that  attracted  but  very 
little  attention,  and  was  supposed  to  be  of  no  practical  use, 
as  it  was  for  the  next  thirty  years.  About  that  time  an- 
other investigating  genius,  named  Perkins,  found  the  same 
substance  in  the  coal-tar  just  mentioned.  Very  little  atten- 
tion was  paid  to  this  discovery  as  well,  until  it  was  found 
that  from  aniline  oil  could  be  made  a  dye  called  alizarine, 
which  could  be  made  to  take  the  place  of  madder.  The  dis- 
covery of  alizarine  has  revolutionized  the  industry  of  dye- 
ing.    Hundreds  of  acres  that  were  formerly  given  up  to  the 


Moth,  Rust,  and  Microbes.  241 

cultivation  of  the  root  from  which  madder  was  obtained  are 
now  utilized  for  the  cultivation  of  wheat,  or  other  foods. 
But  it  is  not  our  purpose  here  to  speak  of  all  the  changes 
that  the  aniline  colors  have  wrought,  but  simply  of  their 
very  great  value  in  staining  microscopic  objects,  especially 
these  lower  forms  of  life,  which  take  from  the  aniline  dyes  a 
deeper  tint  than  the  surrounding  tissues.  In  this  way  the 
microbes  have  been  made  distinct,  and  their  study  possible 
and  exact. 

It  is  not  our  purpose  here  to  name  all  the  forms  and  vari- 
eties of  microbes  that  have  been  discovered  up  to  the  pres- 
ent time.  The  literature  on  the  subject  is  already  extensive, 
and  the  names  chosen  are  so  largely  from  the  Greek  that 
they  are  not  adapted  for  general  use.  Take,  for  instance,  the 
naming  of  the  colonies  of  bacteria;  for  example, 

1.  Torula,  in  the  form  of  a  necklace.     (Pages  224,  220.) 

2.  Leptothrix,  made  up  of  bacteria  clustered  end  to  end. 

3.  Mycoderma,  immobile,  composed  of  bacteria  in  sheets. 

4.  Zoozoea,  being  masses  of  bacteria,  immobile,  inclosed 
in  a  sort  of  jelly  which  holds  them  together.  For  all  these  the 
simpler  names  of  necklace,  chains,  sheets,  and  jelly  would  have 
answered  every  purpose.  Three  of 
these  names,  however,  have  come 
into  so  general  use  that  they  re- 
quire definition  here,  which  can  be 
greatly  assisted  by  comparing  these 
microbes  to  well -known  objects. 
The  first,  except  that  it  is  infinitely 
smaller,  closely  resembles  a  billiard 
ball.  This  is  the  micrococcus.  Next 
in  order  of  frequence  are  the  bacil- 
li, so  named  from  the  Latin  name      Bacilli  and  mirromrd  m  tuber- 

f.  ,    ,        .,,  r        ,  cular  deposit. 

J  or  :i  rod,  bacillus;  lor  these  resem- 
ble in  shape  an  unsharpened  lead-pencil,  and  are  the  most 
hardy  of  all  the  microbes.     Lastly,  we  have  the  spirilla,  or 
those  which  resemble  a  corkscrew  in  shape.     The  varieties 

and  Subdivisions  of   these   are  almost  endless,  but  their  tcch- 
Jl 


24:2  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

nical  names  do  not  particularly  concern  us,  except,  perhaps, 
their  further  division  into  aerobians,  or  those  which  require 
air  for  their  growth,  and  the  anaerobians,  or  those  microbes 
which  flourish  without  the  presence  of  oxygen.  And  flour- 
ish they  do  amazingly,  for  the  most  wonderful  thing  in  re- 
gard to  these  microbes  is  their  wonderful  power  of  multipli- 
cation. A  generation  of  bacteria  can  be  begotten  in  a  single 
hour ;  or,  in  other  words,  a  single  bacterium  may  produce 
two  in  that  time,  and  these  again  four  in  another  hour;  and 
if  this  rate  of  increase  should  continue  for  only  three  days, 
at  the  end  of  that  time  there  would  be  4,772,000,000,000,  or 
7,500  tons.  Fortunately  this  cannot  happen,  for  this  fearful 
rate  of  multiplication  is  cut  short  by  their  inability  to  obtain 
proper  food;  for  microbes,  like  all  other  living  beings,  must 
have  food  or  die.  Moreover,  fortunately,  by  their  growth 
they  produce  compounds,  such  as  alcohol,  which  are  destruc- 
tive to  coming  generations,  for  otherwise  the  presence  of  a 
single  bacterium  would  soon  overwhelm  us  with  a  deluge  of 
infusorial  life  compared  to  which  the  biblical  deluge  was  but 
a  trivial  matter. 

Microbes  reproduce  themselves  in  two  way ;  snamely, 
by  fission,  or  gemmation,  and  by  the  formation  of  spores. 
The  first  takes  place  wherever  the  exceedingly  rapid 
growth  occurs  which  has  just  been  spoken  of.  This  fission 
consists  of  a  splitting  of  the  animal  into  various  segments, 
or  buds,  which  soon  dissolve  partnership  with  their  parent 
and  set  up  housekeeping  on  their  own  account.  As  we  have 
already  seen,  in  the  course  of  half  an  hour  they  themselves 
may  suffer  internal  convulsions  and  split  up,  or  send  out  seg- 
ments which  similarly  divide  until  their  supply  of  food  is 
exhausted.  For  you  must  know  that  these  microbes,  like 
us  of  larger  growth,  have  their  likes  and  dislikes  in  the  wray 
of  diet.  One  microbe's  food  is  -emphatically  another  mi- 
crobe's poison,  or  at  least  his  starvation,  for  some  forms  will 
grow  and  flourish  in  beef-tea,  but  absolutely  refuse  the  dain- 
tiest raw  potato;  as  is  the  case  with  the  bacillus,  which  is  sup- 
posed to  produce  consumption.     The  one  that  causes  chicken 


Moth,  Rust,  and  Microbes.  243 

cholera  is  decidedly  ghoulish  in  its  tastes,  for  it  likes  best  of 
all  a  broth  made  from  the  chicken  which  it  has  slain.  The 
bacillus  of  cholera  morbus  is  not  at  all  dainty,  for  it  will 
grow  equally  well  in  animal  or  vegetable  broth,  and  the  hay- 
tea  bacillus  is  equally  at  home  in  old  cheese. 

In  these  latter  days  the  scientists  have  become  very 
Delmonicos  in  providing  for  the  taste  of  the  microbes  ;  for 
instance,  at  Koch's  laboratory  they  have  a  bill  of  fare  set 
before  them  consisting  of  Pasteur's  fluids,  hay-soup,  beef- 
tea,  chicken -broth,  putrid  urine,  milk,  raw  potatoes,  old 
cheese,  peptonized  meat,  and  gelatinized  blood.  Surely  it 
must  be  a  dainty  microbe  that  cannot  find  here  something  to 
its  liking.  But  seriously,  in  Berlin  and  elsewhere,  with 
almost  infinite  patience  and  painstaking  precaution  against 
error,  these  lower  forms  of  life  have  been  carefully  studied, 
with  results  that  have  revolutionized  our  theories  concerning 
fermentation,  putrefaction,  molds,  parasites,  and  many 
forms  of  disease.  It  lies  outside  of  our  intention  to  attempt 
a  review  of  all  that  the  study  of  microbes  has  accomplished. 
But  it  has  already  repaid  a  thousand-fold  in  money  all  that 
the  investigation  has  cost.  In  proof  of  this  we  have  but 
to  instance  the  results  obtained  in  checking  the  vine  and 
silk-worm  diseases,  which  were  devastating  these  industries 
in  France.  In  1853  the  French  silk  crop  amounted  to  some- 
thing over  50,000,000  pounds.  Little  by  little  this  gradually 
decreased  until  it  reached  only  one  fifth  of  this  amount, 
owing  to  a  strange  mortality  which  occurred  in  the  caterpil- 
lars which  produced  the  cocoons.  This  disease  was  found  by 
Pasteur  to  be  due  to  infusorial  life,  and  by  carrying  out  the 
precautions  suggested  by  him  it  was  brought  to  a  halt,  until 
the  silk  crop  of  France  has  again  reached  the  proportions  of 
1853.  Neither  have  we  space  to  speak  of  the  results  ob- 
tained in  the  treatment  of  chicken  cholera,  anthrax,  sheep 
tag,  or  of  the  changes  wrought  in  brewing,  distilling,  and 
bread-making,  but  in  conclusion  only  of  some  of  the  possible 
relationships  of  these  lower  forms  of  life  to  our  own  bodies 
and  their  diseases. 


244  Physiology  and  Hygiexe. 

Beale  and  his  school  claim  that  microbes  have  nothing  at 
all  to  do  with  the  production  of  disease,  but  are  simply  an 
accidental  accompaniment.  It  certainly  is  true  that  some 
of  these  lower  forms  of  life  are  perfectly  harmless  to  a 
healthy  body.  In  fact,  there  is  good  reason  to  believe  that 
certain  of  them  actually  serve  as  scavengers  in  the  intestinal 
canal,  there  feasting  and  gorging  themselves,  like  the  vultures 
of  the  East,  on  what  would  otherwise  be  dangerous  and 
hurtful  to  us.  So  long  as  they  keep  within  their  bounds 
these  organisms  are  helpful ;  but  let  them  in  any  manner 
enter  the  blood  and  they  produce  poisonous  effects.  At 
least  this  is  the  present  theory  of  many  diseases,  and  it  has 
been  worked  out  with  remarkable  ingenuity  and  plausibility. 
In  medicine,  as  elsewhere,  the  pendulum  is  too  apt  to  swing 
from  one  extreme  to  the  other,  and  just  now  there  is  an 
effort  to  explain  almost  every  form  of  disease,  from  erysipelas 
to  cholera,  as  originating  from  bacterial  infection,  and  in  many 
cases  with  apparent  success.  In  the  case  of  consumption, 
for  instance,  this  has  been  done  with  so  much  care,  and  it 
explains  so  many  features  of  the  disease  that  have  hitherto 
been  inexplicable,  that  it  may  be  taken  as  a  fair  instance  of 
what  is  known  as  a  bacterial  disease.  The  infection  in  the 
case  of  consumption  is  supposed  to  be  a  straight  rod-like 
body,  discovered  by  Koch,  of  Berlin,  and  named  by  him 
bacillus  tuberculosis.  This  rod-like  body  is  so  minute,  and  in 
color  so  closely  resembles  the  tissues  in  which  it  is  imbedded, 
that  it  is  only  by  the  most  careful  staining  and  manipulation 
that  it  can  be  recognized.  So  difficult  is  this  that  not  a  few 
good  microscopists  at  first  denied  its  existence  entirely, 
claiming  that  Professor  Koch  had  mistaken  fat  crystals  and 
all  sorts  of  other  small  objects  for  bacilli.  But  with  wonder- 
ful patience  Koch  so  verified  his  work  that  to-day  even  his 
most  obstinate  opponents  admit  that  this  microbe  is  found  in 
consumptive  tissues,  and,  so  far  as  we  now  know,  nowhere  else. 
So  generally  is  this  admitted  that,  to  the  knowledge  of  the 
writer,  a  lady  has  been  exiled  from  her  home  for  a  year  and 
more  solely  on  the   evidence  of   a  single  bacillus   in  matter 


Moth,  Rust,  and  Microbes.  245 

that  was  coughed  up.  And  wisely,  too,  if  we  admit  this 
theory  of  consumption,  for  the  presence  of  this  bacillus 
in  the  sputum  indicated  that  it  had  found  a  lodgement 
in  the  lungs,  and,  in  the  natural  course  of  events,  unless 
promptly  exterminated,  would  grow  and  multiply  until  its 
unfortunate  hostess  should  fall  a  victim  to  its  ravages. 

The  origin  of  the  disease  as  thus  explained  is  that  these  ba- 
cilli, escaping  from  some  other  consumptive  patient,  become 
dried,  and  with  other  microscopic  spores  are  carried  hither 
and  thither  in  the  atmosphere  until  they  find  some  suitable 
lodging-place.  Probably  they  will  not  grow  on  the  air  pas- 
sage of  a  perfectly  healthy  lung  any  more  than  thrash  will 
in  a  perfectly  healthy  mouth.  But  let  either  parasite  find  a 
mucous  membrane  in  the  proper  condition  for  its  growth,  it 
will  fasten  and  multiply  there  each  after  its  own  fashion. 
The  consumption  bacillus  is  one  of  slow  growth,  so  that  it 
may  be  years  in  producing  death,  but  it  nevertheless  slowly 
multiplies  at  the  expense  of  the  lung  in  which  it  is  imbedded, 
until  at  last  the  person  dies,  not  so  much  from  the  presence  of 
the  bacillus  as  from  the  products  resulting  from  its  growth. 
If  for  any  reason  the  deposit  is  small,  or  the  consumptive 
changes  his  residence  to  such  a  climate  that  the  microbe, 
after  a  struggle  for  existence,  perishes,  recovery  may  take 
place,  as  not  unf requently  happens.  Similar  causes  are  given 
for  cholera,  malaria,  hydrophobia,  erysipelas,  yellow  and 
typhoid  and  all  of  the  contagious  fevers,  with  much  plaus- 
ibility, but  as  yet  without  convincing  proof.  In  the  blood 
of  measles  and  scarlet  fever  it  is  claimed  that 
rod-like  bacilli  can  be  found,  and  that  the  in- 
oculation of  these  conveys  the  disease  from 
one  to  another.  The  degree  of  virulence  of 
lli<:  <li-  -    explained  by   the   behavior   of 

the    white    corpuscles    toward    tin-    Invading 
bacilli.     The  former  endeavor  to  bodily  swal-     Leucocytes    de- 
low  the  invading  microbes,   if  we  can  trust  curing  bacillus. 

the    description    <>f    the     scientist    who    figured     the    act     as 
given  on  this   page.     Given   sufficient  white    corpuscles  to 


246  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

devour  the  bacilli,  there  will  be  but  slight  fever  ;  given 
more  bacilli,  a  severer  attack.  At  least  this  is  the  theory 
of  the  adherents  of  the  germ-theory  of  disease,  but  in  fair- 
ness those  of  Dr.  Beale  ought  also  to  be  given.  In  writing 
on  the  subject,  he  says  : 

"  Old  epithelial  cells,  like  other  old  and  formed  tissue,  or 
other  dead,  organic,  animal,  or  vegetable  matter,  very  soon 
become  invaded  by  low  vegetable  organisms,  which  grow  at 
their  expense  and  live  upon  their  substance.  Not  only  in  the 
substance  of  these  cells,  but  upon  their  surface,  the  fungus 
germs  are  found,  and  frequently  project  from  them,  form- 
in  o-  little  collections  which  mav  be  detached  from  time  to 
time. 

"  Among  the  hair-like  epithelial  processes  projecting  from 
the  free  extremities  of  the  filiform  papillae  are  often  found 
masses  which  have  a  granular  appearance  under  low  magnify- 
ing powers;  but  when  examined  under  objective  magnifying 
more  than  three  hundred  diameters,  will  be  found  to  consist 
of  millions  of  spherical  and  oval  fungi,  or  micrococci,  grouped 
together.  .  .  .  The  first  question  you  will  ask  will  probably  be 
this:  'Do  these  germ -particles  perform  any  distinct  office, 
or  function,  in  connection  with  the  solution  of  food  or  diges- 
tion, or  do  they  merely  live  and  grow  upon  the  old  epithelial 
cells  and  the  debris  of  the  food,  which  must  needs  undergo 
change  in  such  a  solution,  and  at  the  temperature  of  the  inside 
of  the  mouth?'  We  find  such  bodies  in  animals  as  well  as 
man,  and  though  they  are  found  in  greatest  number  in  cer- 
tain derangements,  multitudes  are  constantly  present  in  the 
most  healthy  individuals. 

"  Wherever  organic  matter  is  undergoing  change  and  disin- 
tegration, in  an  organism  or  outside  of  it,  at  the  temperature 
of  man's  body  or  some  degree  lower  or  higher  than  this,  and 
in  some  cases  at  a  much  lower  temperature,  such  organisms 
exist  in  a  countless  multitude,  and  grow  and  multiply  at  the 
expense  of  the  disintegrating  organic  matter.  At  this  time 
of  the  year  (October)  there  is  not  a  leaf  in  which  you  will 
not  find  millions  of  low  vegetable  organisms  in  various  stages 


Moth,  Rust,  and  Miceobes.  247 

of  development  and  growth.  Fungus  germs  exist  in  the  air 
at  every  part  of  the  earth's  surface  at  all  times.  Though  by- 
no  means  constantly  present  in  precisely  the  same  amount, 
some  are  always  to  be  detected  in  appreciable  numbers  if 
the  air  is  properly  examined.  Many  coming  into  contact 
with  the  moist  surface  of  the  leaf  about  to  decay  find  there 
a  surface  favorable  for  their  development.  The  spores  ger- 
minate, and  from  the  surface  of  the  tissues  of  the  plant  the 
growth  easily  makes  its  way  into  the  substance.  ...  As  the 
leaf  grows  old,  substances  are  formed  which  are  easily  appro- 
priated by  the  fungi.  The  germs  of  these  are  present,  and 
are  ready  to  develop  just  at  the  time  when  the  appropriate 
pabulum  is  formed.  The  fungus  does  not  spring  from  the 
leaf,  neither  is  the  leaf  caused  to  grow  old  by  the  fungus, 
and  its  deterioration  begins  before  the  growth  of  the  fungus 
commences.  ...  In  the  case  of  the  higher  animals  and  man, 
at  least,  in  many  instances  in  which  low  organisms  are  asso- 
ciated with  morbid  processes,  these  last  are  neither  the  cause 
of  disease  nor  are  they  produced  by  it.  Germs,  being  pres- 
ent, will  grow  and  multiply  wherever  the  surrounding  con- 
ditions become  favorable.  If  these  remain  for  a  considerable 
time  unfavorable,  the  germs,  if  present,  remain  quiescent  and 
may  at  last  die. 

C4As  it  is  with  regard  to  deteriorating  vegetable  tissues,  so 
it  is  with  regard  to  decaying  animal  tissue.  Whether  the 
body  be  in  a  state  of  health  or  disease,  wherever  tissue  is 
about  to  undergo  chemical  change,  wherever  decomposition 
is  taking  place,  or  is  approaching,  the  conditions  may  be 
favorable  for  the  growth  and  multiplication  of  certain  low 
vegetable  organisms,  the  germs  of  which  are  present.  Long 
before  the  changes  akin  to  deterioration  and  decay  are 
ordinarily  supposed  to  commence,  even  from  the  very  earliest 
period  of  construction  and  growth,  fungus  germs  are  ever 
present,  ready  to  grow  and  multiply  should  death  and  disin- 
tegration of  a  living  particle  occur.  No  wonder,  then,  that 
\v<-  find  so  many  low  organisms  growing  in  connection  with 
the  old  epithelium  of  the  mouth  and  of  the  tongue,  of  the 


248  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

esophagus  and  other  parts.  Under  certain  circumstances, 
the  fungi  grow  and  multiply  to  a  vast  extent  lower  down  the 
alimentary  canal.  Multitudes,  as  I  have  said,  pass  down 
the  alimentary  canal  every  time  we  swallow  food  or  fluid. 
Such  ordinary  bacteria  and  their  germs  do  us  no  harm  what- 
ever. But  please  do  not  infer  from  what  I  have  said  that 
the  putrid  fluids  loaded  with  bacteria  are  innocuous,  or  to  be 
recommended.  Organic  matter  in  a  state  of  putrefactive 
decomposition,  when  introduced  into  the  alimentary  canal, 
gives  rise  to  pathological  phenomena  irrespective  of  the  bac- 
teria it  may  contain.  .  .  . 

"Whether  it  is  some  special  bacterium  which  causes  the 
results  consequent  upon  the  introduction  of  specific  poison 
into  the  organism,  or  whether  the  active  particles  are  of  a 
totally  different  nature,  altogether  independent  of  bacteria 
and  allied  organisms,  is  still  an  open  question.  Some  evi- 
dence has  been  recently  adduced  in  favor  of  the  hypothesis 
that  there  are  bacteria  and  bacteria — that  the  real  contagious 
bacterium  is  an  organism  altogether  apart  from  the  harmless 
bodies  so  intimately  connected  with  every  part  of  every  one 
of  us.  Further,  it  has  been  surmised  that  the  horrible  death- 
carrying  bacteria  of  various  orders  have  been  somehow  de- 
rived from  the  harmless  form  by  pathological  transformations, 
or  developed  in  the  course  of  evolutional  struggles  proceeding 
through  the  ages,  or  that  they  are  the  product  of  a  constantly 
altering  environment.  But  many  new  facts  must  be  discov- 
ered and  much  must  be  learned  concerning  special  bacterial 
phenomena  before  the  problem  can  be  solved." 

And  to  solve  this  problem  is  being  waged  just  now  most 
acrimoniously  what  may  hereafter  be  known  as  the  battle  of 
the  microbes.  Whatever  may  be  its  result,  we  shall  be  forced 
to  confess  with  St.  Augustine  that  the  power  of  God  is  shown 
most  in  the  little  things.  Whether  these  microbes  prove 
eventually  to  be  our  deadliest  foes,  or  nature's  invisible 
scavengers,  who  injure  us  only  when  we  force  them  to  work 
where  they  ought  not,  they  have  already  taught  us  much  of 
practical  value.     A  clean  wound  is  not  one  which  has  been 


Moth,  Rust,  and  Microbes.  249 

merely  washed,  but  one  protected  from  the  presence  of  these, 
microbes.  Modern  surgery  in  this  way  obtains  results  un- 
dreamed of  by  our  fathers,  for  their  best  efforts  were  op- 
posed by  invisible  foes  whose  existence  they  never  suspected. 
The  blessings  of  clean  streets,  quarantine,  and  increasing 
years  of  life  are  largely  the  results  of  the  patient  study  in 
a  Parisian  laboratory  of  the  difference  between  tartaric  and 
paratartaric  acids — a  subject  that  the  so-called  practical  man 
would  have  sneered  at  as  of  not  the  slightest  earthly  im- 
portance. 

As  yet  we  know  but  in  part,  but  from  this  partial 
knowledge,  if  we  are  wise,  we  have  learned  sufficient  to  con- 
vince us  that  this  house  in  which  we  live  is  not  a  mere 
joining  together  of  chance  atoms.  On  the  contrary,  the 
greatest  care  has  been  taken  in  its  construction  and  in  its 
protection  from  injury,  wherein  we  find  the  explanation  of 
the  mystery  of  pain.  No  truer  or  more  beautiful  words 
have  ever  been  written  on  this  subject  than  those  of  an  un- 
known writer  in  Temple  Bar  some  years  ago  : 

"The  power  which  rules  the  universe — this  great,  tender 
power — uses  pain  as  a  signal  of  danger.  Just,  generous, 
beautiful  Nature  never  strikes  a  foul  blow;  never  attacks  us 
behind  our  backs;  never  digs  pit-falls  or  lays  ambuscades; 
never  wears  a  smile  upon  her  face  when  there  is  vengeance 
in  her  heart.  Patiently  she  teaches  us  her  laws,  plainly  she 
writes  her  warnings,  tenderly  she  graduates  their  force. 
Long  before  the  fierce  red  danger-light  of  pain  is  flashed, 
she  pleads  with  us,  as  though  for  her  own  good's  sake,  not 
ours,  to  be  merciful  to  ourselves  and  to  teach  each  other. 
She  makes  the  overworked  brain  to  wander  from  the  subject 
of  its  labors.  She  turns  the  over-indulged  body  against  the 
delights  of  yesterday.  These  are  her  caution  signals,  'Go 
slow.'  She  si  amis  in  the  filthy  courts  and  alleys  that  we 
pass  daily  and  beckons  us  to  enter  and  realize  with  our  senses 
what  we  allow  to  exist  in  the  midst  of  the  culture  of  which 
we  brag.  And  what  do  we  do  for  ourselves?  We  ply  whip 
and  spur  on  the  jaded  brain  as  though  it  were  a  jibbing  horse 
11* 


250  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

— force  it  back  into  the  road  which  leads  to  madness,  and 
go  on  full  gallop. 

"  We  drug  the  rebellious  body  with  stimulants ;  we  hide 
the  signal  and  think  we  have  escaped  the  danger,  and  are 
very  festive  before  night.  We  turn  aside,  as  the  Pharisee 
did  of  old,  and  pass  by  on  the  other  side  with  our  handker- 
chief to  our  nose.  At  last,  having  broken  Nature's  laws  and 
disregarded  her  warnings,  forth  she  comes — drums  beating, 
colors  flyings — right  in  front,  to  punish  us. 

"  Then  we  go  down  on  our  knees  and  whimper  about  it 
having  pleased  God  Almighty  to  send  this  affliction  upon  us, 
and  we  pray  him  to  work  a  miracle  in  order  to  reverse  the 
natural  consequences  of  our  disobedience,  or  save  us  from  the 
trouble  of  doing  our  duty." 

In  other  words,  we  thrust  our  fingers  into  the  fire  and  then 
pray  that  we  may  not  be  hurt,  for  that  in  reality  is  what  the 
so-called  metaphysical  and  faith  cures  amount  to.  They  are 
in  the  same  line  of  argument  as  Ingersoll's  sneering  blas- 
phemy: "  Why  is  not  good  health  catching,  as  well  as 
disease  ?  " 

The  body,  like  all  else  of  the  Creator's  work,  was  originally 
«  very  good,"  and  if  our  bodies  at  present  are  not  so,  then 
either  we  or  our  parents  have  damaged  them.  Why  we 
should  be  allowed  to  do  this  we  shall  probably  never  be  able 
to  explain  until  we  cease  to  see  in  part,  and  that  which  is 
earthly  is  done  away  with;  but  recognizing  the  fact,  which 
is  beyond  dispute,  what  are  we  going  to  do  about  it  ?  And  we 
ask  the  question  reverently,  and  as  one  of  importance,  for  our 
bodily  ills,  trivial  as  they  may  seem  to  others,  are  very  im- 
portant factors  in  our  lives  for  good  or  ill.  Paul's  thorn  in 
the  flesh  did  as  much  to  make  him  the  invincible  apostle  that 
he  was  as  did  Byron's  club-foot  to  make  him  a  gloomy, 
misanthropic  cynic.  Strangest  of  all,  in  these  latter  days  we 
find  good  men  and  women  who  claim  that  Paul  had  no  busi- 
ness with  thorns  in  the  flesh.  No  Christian  doubts  the  power 
of  God  to  perform  miraculous  cures  if  it  seem  best  to 
him,  but  as  yet  the  evidence   is  not  sufficient  to  warrant 


Moth,  Rust,  and  Microbes.  251 

other  conclusions  than  that  the  laws  of  Nature  are  allowed 
to  take  their  course  with  the  body  just  as  they  do  with  other 
material  objects.  No  one  dreams  of  faith  being  necessary  to 
heal  the  galled  back  of  an  overworked  farm-horse.  Natural 
laws  have  to  be  utilized  for  the  recovery  of  disease  for  the 
same  reasons  that  their  violation  brings  disease.  Sickness, 
as  is  well  said  by  Dr.  Hunt,  is  "providential  penalty"  for 
violated  law,  and  it  is  gross  disrespect  to  the  Judge  of  all 
to  expect  that  these  providential  penalties  should  be  annulled 
by  the  request  of  one  of  his  petit  jury.  Trophimus  had  to  be 
left  sick  at  Miletum  notwithstanding  the  prayers  of  Paul  and 
himself,  or  the  then  Christian  Church.  And  yet  in  these 
latter  days  there  has  grown  up  the  strange  delusion  that 
with  an  illogical,  hysterical  girl  or  an  ignorant  backwoods- 
man  has  been  placed  power  such  as  was  denied  Paul. 

No  fairer  putting  of  the  whole  case  of  faith-cures  can  be 
made  than  will  be  found  in  the  following  inductions  taken 
from  an  article  by  Rev.  Dr.  James  M.  Buckley  in  the  Century 
Magazine. 

" 1.  That  subjective  mental  states,  as  concentration  of  the 
attention  upon  a  part  with  or  without  belief,  can  produce 
effects  either  of  the  nature  of  disease  or  cure. 

"  2.  Active  incredulity  in  persons  not  acquainted  with  these 
laws,  but  willing  to  be  experimented  upon,  is  often  more 
favorable  to  sudden  effects  than  mere  stupid,  acquiescent 
credulity.  The  first  thing  the  incredulous,  hard-headed  man, 
who  believes  that  '  there  is  nothing  in  it,'  sees  that  he  can- 
not fathom  may  lead  him  to  succumb  instantly  and  entirely  to 
the  dominant  idea. 

"  3.  That  concentrated  attention,  with  faith,  can  produce 
very  great  effects ;  may  operate  powerfully  in  acute  diseases, 
with  instantaneous  rapidity  upon  nervous  diseases,  or  upon 
any  disease  capable  of  being  modified  by  direct  action 
through  the  nervous  or  circulatory  system. 

"4.  That  cures  can  be  wrought  upon  diseases  of  accu- 
mulation, such  as  dropsy  and  tumors  of  various  kinds,  with 
great  rapidity,   where  the  increased  action  of   the  various 


252  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

excretory  functions  can  eliminate  the  accumulations  from 
the  system. 

"  5.  That  rheumatism,  sciatica,  gout,  neuralgia,  contraction 
of  the  joints,  and  certain  inflammatory  conditions,  may  dis- 
appear under  similar  mental  states  suddenly,  so  as  to  admit 
of  helpful  exercise,  which  exercise  by  its  effect  upon  the  cir- 
culation, and  through  it  upon  the  nutrition  of  diseased  parts, 
may  produce  a  permanent  cure. 

"  6.  That  the  '  mind-cure,'  apart  from  the  absurd  philoso- 
phy of  the  different  sects  into  which  it  is  already  divided, 
and  its  repudiation  of  all  medicine,  has  a  basis  in  the  laws  of 
nature.  The  pretense  of  mystery,  however,  is  either  honest 
ignorance  or  consummate  quackery. 

"  7.  That  all  are  unable  to  dispense  with  surgery  where  the 
case  is  in  the  slightest  degree  complex  and  mechanical  ad- 
justments ar«  necessary  ;  also  that  they  cannot  restore  a 
limb,  or  eye,  or  finger,  or  even  a  tooth  which  has  been  lost. 
But  in  certain  displacements  of  internal  organs,  the  conse- 
quence of  nervous  debility,  which  are  sometimes  aided  by 
surgery,  they  all  sometimes  succeed  by  developing  latent 
energy  through  mental  stimulus. 

"  8.  All  that  they  really  accomplish  can  be  paralleled  with- 
out assuming  any  supernatural  cause,  and  a  formula  can  be 
constructed  out  of  the  elements  of  the  human  mind  which 
will  give  as  high  average  results  as  their  prayers  or  anoint- 
ings. 

"  Is  there  then  no  warrant  in  the  New  Testament  for  the 
ordinary  Christian  to  pray  for  the  sick,  and  is  there  no  utility 
in  such  prayers  ?  The  operation  of  the  providence  of  God 
upon  the  minds  of  men  and  upon  their  bodies,  through  the 
order  of  cause  and  effect  which  he  has  established,  has  not 
come  under  review.  The  New  Testament  affirms  that  *  All 
things  work  together  for  good  to  them  that  love  God.'  It 
also  teaches  that  the  Spirit  of  God  has  constant  access  to  the 
minds  of  men,  and  sets  forth  an  all-inclusive  doctrine  of 
Providence,  without  which  not  even  a  sparrow  falls.  It  does 
not  say  that  prayer  will  always  secure  the  recovery  of  the 


Moth,  Rust,  and  Microbes.  253 

sick,  for  it  gives  the  case  of  Paul,  who  had  a  thorn  in  the 
flesh,  and  who  said,  '  I  besought  the  Lord  thrice  that  this 
thing  should  depart  from  me,'  but  received,  'My  grace  is 
sufficient  for  thee.' 

"None  can  demonstrate  that  God  cannot  work  through 
second  causes,  bringing  about  results  which,  when  they  come, 
appear  to  be  entirely  natural,  but  which  would  not  have 
come  except  through  special  providence  or  in  answer  to 
prayer.  The  New  Testament  declares  that  he  does  so  inter- 
fere 'according  to  his  will.' 

"  It  was  not  his  will  in  the  case  of  Paul,  and  he  did  not  in- 
terfere, but  gave  spiritual  blessings  instead.  No  one  can  tell 
when  he  will  interfere.  But  prayer  for  the  sick  is  one  of  the 
most  consoling  privileges,  and  it  would  be  a  strange  omission 
if  we  were  not  entitled  to  pray  for  comfort,  for  spiritual 
help,  for  such  graces  as  will  render  continued  chastening  un- 
necessary, and  for  recovery,  when  the  thing  prayed  for  is  in 
harmony  with  the  will  of  God.  The  belief  that  when  the 
prayer  is  in  accordance  with  the  mind  of  God  'the  prayer 
of  faith  shall  save  the  sick,  and  the  Lord  shall  raise  him  up,' 
is  supported  by  many  explicit  promises.  But  as  all  who  die 
must  die  from  disease,  old  age,  accident,  or  intentional  vio- 
lence, every  person  must  at  some  time  be  in  a  state  when 
prayer  cannot  prolong  his  life. 

"  When  we  or  others  are  sick  the  Christian  doctrine  is  that 
we  are  to  use  the  best  means  at  command,  and  to  pray, 
1  Father,  if  it  be  possible,  let  this  cup  pass  from  me ;  never- 
theless, not  my  will  but  thine  be  done.'  The  prayer  may 
be  answered  by  its  effect  upon  the  mind  of  the  patient  ;  by 
directing  the  physician,  the  nurse,  or  the  friends  to  the  use  of 
such  means  as  may  hasten  recovery  ;  or,  for  aught  we  know, 
by  a  direct  effect  produced  upon  the  physical  system,  behind 
the  visible  system  of  causes  and  effects,  but  reaching  the  pa- 
tient  through  them  ;  then,  if  the  patient  recovers,  it  will  Beera 
as  though  he  recovered  naturally, though  it  maybe  in  an  un- 
usual manner.  The  Christian  in  his  personal  religious  ex- 
perience may  believe  that  his  prayer  was  the  element  that 


254  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

induced  God  to  interfere  and  prolong  life.  Assuming  that 
there  is  a  God  who  made  and  loves  men,  none  can  show  his 
faith  irrational  or  unscriptural;  but  such  testimony  can  be  of 
no  value  to  demonstrate  to  others  a  fact  in  the  plane  of  sci- 
ence. When  the  time  comes  that  the  Christian  is  to  die,  he 
must  then  rest,  even  while  praying  for  life,  upon  the  prom- 
ise, *  My  grace  is  sufficient  for  thee.' 

"  The  faith-healers  represent  God  as  interfering  constantly, 
not  by  cause  and  effect  in  the  order  of  nature,  but  effecting 
the  result  directly.  Their  want  of  superiority  to  those  who 
are  not  Christians,  but  who  use  either  false  pretenses  or  natural 
laws,  and  their  inferiority  to  Christ  and  the  apostles,  con- 
demn their  pretensions.  Nor  does  it  avail  them  to  say, 
e  Christ  would  not  come  down  from  the  cross  when  taunted 
by  unbelievers.'  They  might,  perhaps,  with  propriety  refuse 
a  test  for  the  test's  sake,  though  Elijah  forced  one.  But  in 
a  close  observation  of  their  works  the  radical  difference  be- 
tween them  and  those  who  they  say  have  no  divine  help 
should  be  manifest.  Some  of  them  affirm  that  the  Mor- 
mons, Newton,  and  others,  do  their  mighty  works  by  the  aid 
of  devils.  If  so,  since  casting  out  devils  was  a  miracle-work- 
ing power  of  a  very  low  grade,  it  is  wonderful  that  none  of 
these  persons  Jiave  been  able  to  cast  out  the  devils  from  any 
of  the  great  number  who  are  working  in  this  way,  and  thus 
demonstrate  their  superiority  as  the  apostles  vindicated  their 
claims  against  Simon  the  sorcerer  and  others. 

"  Faith-cure,  technically  so  called,  as  now  held  by  many 
Protestants,  is  a  pitiable  superstition,  dangerous  in  its  final 
effects. 

"  It  may  be  asked,  What  harm  can  result  from  allowing 
persons  to  believe  in  '  faith-healing?'  Very  great,  indeed.  Its 
tendency  is  to  produce  an  effeminate  type  of  character  which 
shrinks  from  any  pain,  and  to  concentrate  attention  upon  self 
and  its  sensations.  It  sets  up  false  grounds  for  determining 
whether  a  person  is  or  is  not  in  favor  of  God.  It  opens  the 
door  to  every  superstition,  such  as  attaching  importance  to 
dreams,  signs,  opening  the  Bible  at  random,  expecting  the 


Moth,  Rust,  and  Microbes.  255 

Lord  to  make  it  open  so  that  they  can  gather  his  will  from 
the  first  passage  they  see,  *  impression,'  '  assurances,'  etc. 
Practically  it  gives  great  support  to  other  delusions  which 
claim  a  supernatural  element.  It  greatly  injures  Christianity 
by  subjecting  it  to  a  test  which  it  cannot  endure.  It  directs 
attention  from  the  moral  and  spiritual  transformation  which 
Christianity  professes  to  work — a  transformation  which, 
wherever  made,  manifests  its  divinity,  so  that  none  who 
behold  it  need  any  other  proof  that  it  is  of  God.  It  destroys 
the  ascendency  of  reason  in  the  soul,  and  thus  like  similar 
delusions  it  is  self-perpetuating,  and  its  natural,  and  in  some 
minds  its  irresistible,  tendency  is  to  mental  derangement. 

"  Little  hope  exists  of  freeing  those  already  entangled,  but 
it  is  highly  important  to  prevent  others  from  falling  into  so 
plausible  and  luxurious  a  snare,  and  to  show  that  Christianity 
is  not  to  be  held  responsible  for  aberrations  of  the  imagina- 
tion which  belong  exclusively  to  no  party,  creed,  race,  clime, 
or  age." 


PART  II -APPENDIX. 


PRACTICAL  HINTS  FOR  THE  DEVELOPMENT  OF  THE 

BODY. 

First  wealth  is  health,  says  Emerson ;  but  health  can  no 
more  be  kept  than  wealth  without  care  for  its  preservation. 
The  more  so  in  the  case  of  health,  for  the  reason  that,  as  we 
grow  older,  outside  cares  distract  us,  and  the  body  is  neglected 
until  damaged  beyond  repair.  Few  bodies,  like  few  houses, 
are  absolutely  perfect  in  all  their  parts,  but  neither  houses 
nor  bodies  should  be  neglected  ;  especially  in  the  case  of 
the  body,  since  we  are  absolutely  sure  that  it  is  the  only  one 
which  will  be  given  us  for  our  use  here,  and  when  once 
dilapidated  we  must  bear  the  consequences.  Exercise  is 
Nature's  method  of  keeping  this  house  of  ours  in  good  order, 
for  if  the  ablest  bodied  man  sits  down,  like  an  Indian  fakir, 
to  do  absolutely  nothing,  his  joints,  like  the  East  Indian 
devotee's,  will  become  stiff  and  useless.  And  in  direct 
measure  as  we  defraud  ourselves  of  necessary  exercise  shall 
we  find  ourselves  crippled  thereby.  Exercise  will  do  much 
more  than  keep  us  in  good  health,  for  when  properly  used  it 
will  repair  inherited  and  acquired  defects,  and  much  of  what 
is  hereafter  detailed  is  designed  for  that  purpose — that  is,  for 
body-building,  as  it  is  well  called  by  Dr.  Hunt.  Wherever, 
says  he,  a  particular  organ  shows  a  lack  of  development  or 
vigor  this  is  required  ;  but  "  to  over-develop  a  set  of  muscles, 
as  those  of  the  arm  for  great  lifting,  does  not  always  inclu<le 
a  strengthening  of  the  whole  frame-work.  It  is  body- 
building we  need  ;  we  are  to  seek  such  vital  capacity,  such 
adjustment  of  all  the  parts,  as  will  best  sustain  the  whole. 
Many  a  person  loses  health  because  there  is  a  defect  in  one 


258  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

vital  part  even  when  all  the  rest  of  the  system  is  in  good 
condition.  The  strength  of  a  chain  is  to  be  estimated  by 
that  of  its  weakest  link,  and  this  is  too  often  the  case  as  to 
the  strength  of  the  body.  Where  we  cannot  fully  repair,  or 
bring  a  person  fully  up  to  a  higher  standard  of  health,  we 
can  study  the  type  of  the  individual,  and  bring  him  up  to  a 
higher  standard  of  comfort  and  vigor.  We  use  the  resources 
we  have  to  acquire  more.  All  do  not  begin  with  the  same 
capital  of  health,  or  even  acquire  it,  but  they  can,  at  least, 
learn  what  their  capital  is,  and  its  ability  of  preservation  or 
increase,  and  live  accordingly. 

"  Very  active  exercise  should  not  be  taken  just  after  a  full 
meal.  The  reason  of  this  is  that  the  supply  of  vital  force  is 
generally  diminished  just  before  a  needed  meal,  and  that  di- 
gestion itself,  in  its  first  processes,  has  not  yet  refurnished 
the  system.  '  Observation  shows  us  that  most  animals  incline 
to  quiet  immediately  after  eating.  Active  exercise  before 
breakfast  is  not  generally  beneficial.  No  doubt  it  may  be 
advantageous  to  such  as  have  large  vital  force;  but  experi- 
ment shows  that  it  is  better,  after  so  long  a  fast,  to  take 
some  nourishment  before  exercise.  The  forms  of  exercise 
most  to  be  relied  upon  by  those  in  good  health,  and  who  are 
not  seeking  to  remedy  any  special  disability,  are  such  as 
bring  into  play  the  most  of  the  voluntary  muscles  used  for  a 
change  of  place.  Walking  is  a  specimen  of  natural  exer- 
cise, and,  like  some  others,  has  this  advantage,  that  it  also 
gives  us  a  change  of  air  and  change  of  scene.  On  the  01  her 
hand,  stair-climbing  is  a  form  of  unnatural  exercise,  which, 
if  frequent  and  long-continued,  is  an  injury  to  many,  and 
especially  to  young  girls.  The  most  uniform  rule  as  to  the 
extent  and  degree  of  exercise  is  that  it  shall  continue  until 
there  is  a  feeling  of  glow  or  warmth  of  surface,  or  a  slight 
perspiration.  Exercise  may  be  carried  beyond  this  without 
harm,  as  is  often  necessary  in  work,  and  of  advantage  dur- 
ing the  process  of  growth.  But  the  value  of  exercise,  as 
such,  is  generally  reached  when  there  is  glow  and  slight 
perspiration.     A  feeling  of  fatigue  is  always  an  indication 


Appendix.  259 

of  a  needed  partial  or  continued  rest,  or  a  change  as  to  the 
mode  of  exercise." 

Full  bodily  development  can  only  be  secured  by  means  of 
the  systematic  exercise  of  the  parts  of  the  body  found  want- 
ing. Measurements  for  these  may  be  found  at  the  close  of 
the  present  chapter,  and  where  deficiencies  are  found  the 
hints  herein  contained,  arranged  from  Blaikie's  How  to  Get 
Strong,  and  Anderson's  Physical  Training,  will  prove  helpful. 

Daily  Exercise  for  a  Business  Man. 

Let  him  daily  devote  himself  two  or  three  minutes  to  the 
striking  bag.  Facing  it  squarely,  with  head  back  and  chest 
well  out,  he  should.strike  it  a  succession  of  vigorous  blows, 
with  left  and  right  fists  alternately,  until  he  has  done  a  hun- 
dred in  all.  If  he  has  hit  hard  and  with  spirit  he  is  puffing 
freely  now,  his  lungs  are  fully  expanded,  his  legs  have  a  deal 
of  springing  about  to  do,  and  his  arms  and  chest  have  been 
busiest  of  all. 

If,  once  in  mid-morning  and  again  in  mid-afternoon,  the 
man,  right  in  his  store  or  office,  will  exercise  for  two  or 
three  minutes  with  dumb-bells,  not  weighing  more  than  one 
and  a  half  to  two  pounds  each,  he  will  find  the  rest  and 
change  most  refreshing.  But  in  any  case,  whether  he  does 
or  not,  every  man  in  this  country  whose  life  is  indoors  ought 
so  to  divide  his  time  that,  come  what  may,  he  will  make 
sure  of  his  hour  out-of-doors  in  the  late  afternoon,  when  the 
day's  work  is  nearly  or  quite  done.  If  he  must  get  up  earlier, 
or  get  to  his  work  earlier,  or  work  faster  while  he  does  work, 
no  matter. 

To  Broaden  and  Deepen  the  Chest. 

Anything  which  causes  one  to  frequently  fill  his  lungs  to 
their  utmost  capacity,  and  then  hold  them  lull  as  long  as  he 
can,  tends  directly  to  separate  tin;  ribs,  stretch  the  intercostal 
muscles,  and  so  expand   the  chest. 

Holding  tin-  head  and  neck  hack  of  the  vertical,  say  six 
inches,  with  the  lace  pointing  to  the  ceiling,  and  then  work- 


260  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

ing  with  the  dumb-bells  at  arms'  length,  carrying  them  back- 
ward, is  excellent  practice  for  the  upper  chest,  tending  to  raise 
the  depressed  collar-bones  and  the  whole  upper  ribs,  and  to 
make  a  person  hitherto  flat-chested  now  shapely  and  full; 
while  the  benefit  to  the  lungs,  perhaps  formerly  weak,  would 
be  hard  to  overestimate,  especially  in  threatening  phthisis. 

Steady  and  protracted  running  is  a  great  auxiliary  in  en- 
larging the  lung-room ;  so  is  plenty  of  sparring ;  so  is  the 
practice  of  drawing  air  slowly  in  at  the  nostrils  until  every 
air-cell  of  the  lungs  is  absolutely  full,  and  then  holding  it 
long,  and  then  expelling  it  slowly,  four  to  eight  times  per 
minute. 

To  Enlarge  and  Strengthen  the  Front  of  the  Chest. 

All  exercises  designed  for  the  biceps  tell  also  on  the 
pectoral  muscles,  for  the  two  work  so  intimately  together 
that  he  who  has  a  large  biceps  is  practically  sure  to  have  the 
adjoining  pectoral  muscles  correspondingly  large. 

But  the  pectoral  muscles  are  affected  by  other  exercise  than 
that  of  the  biceps.  Whenever  the  hands  push  hard  against 
any  thing,  and  so  call  the  triceps  muscles  into  action,  these 
muscles  at  once  combine  with  them.  In  the  more  severe  work 
of  the  triceps,  such  as  the  dips,  the  strain  across  these  chest 
muscles  is  very  great,  for  they  are  then  a  very  important  factor 
in  helping  to  hold  up  the  weight  of  the  whole  body. 

"Working  with  the  dumb-bells  when  the  arms  are  extended 
at  right  angles  with  the  body,  like  a  cross,  and  raising  them 
up  and  down  for  a  foot  or  so,  is  one  of  the  best  things  for 
the  upper  edge  of  the  pectorals,  or  that  part  next  to  the  col- 
lar bone. 

To  Strengthen  and  Develop  the  Hand. 

An  admirable  exercise  in  this  direction  is,  when  practicing 
pushing  up  from  the  floor  to  develop  the  triceps,  to  only 
touch  the  floor  with  the  ends  of  the  fingers  and  thumbs,  never 
letting  the  palm  of  the  hand  touch  it  at  all.  This  will  soon 
help  to  rectify  many  a  hand  now  rather  cramped  and  con- 


Appendix.  261 

tracted,  besides  bringing  new  strength  and  shape  to  the 
fingers. 

To  make  any  particular  finger  strong,  attach  a  strap  to  the 
bar  (page  263)  and  placing  that  finger  in  the  strap  begin 
with  raising  a  small  weight  from  the  floor  until  you  have 
drawn  your  hand  down  to  your  chin ;  then  from  day  to  day 
gradually  increase  both  the  weight  and  number,  until  before 
a  great  while  you  may  find  that  you  can  raise  an  equivalent 
of  your  own  weight. 

Just  where  the  thumb  joins  the  palm,  and  between  it  and 
the  forefinger,  on  the  back  of  the  hand  is  a  muscle  which,  at 
first  usually  small,  can  be  developed  and  enlarged  by  any 
exercise  which  necessitates  pinching  the  ends  of  the  thumb 
and  forefinger  together,  such  as  carrying  a  plate  or  other 
thin  but  heavy  substance  between  the  tinger  and  thumb. 

For  improving  the  ordinary  grip  of  the  hand,  simply  tak- 
ing a  rubber  ball  in  it,  or  a  wad  of  any  elastic  material,  or 
even  of  paper,  and  repeatedly  squeezing  it,  will  soon  tell. 
Even  simpler  is  it  to  just  practice  opening  and  shutting  the 
hand  firmly  many  times. 

Exercises  for  the  Triceps  Muscles. 

Push  with  the  hands  against  almost  any  heavy  or  solid  thing 
you  want  to.  If  these  muscles  are  small  and  weak,  push  the 
dumb-bells  up  over  your  head  as  much  as  you  can  daily,  till 
a  month's  work  has  given  them  a  start.  For  two  or  three 
minutes  each  day  during  that  month  stand  facing  the  wall, 
and  about  two  feet  from  it.  Now  fall  against  it,  or  rather, 
put  your  hands  on  it,  about  three  feet  apart  and  as  high  as 
your  ears,  and  let  your  body  drop  in  toward  the  wall  till 
your  chest  nearly  touches  it,  your  face  being  held  up  and 
back.  Then  push  sharply  back  till  your  body  is  erect  again, 
and  continue  the  movement. 

Place  the  hands  on  the  floor,  hold  the  body  out  at  full 
length  and  rigid,  or  as  nearly  so  as  you  can,  and  push,  raising 
the  body  till  the  elbows  are  straight  as  possible,  and  then 
raise  on  stiff  elbows  again,  and  so   on.     If  this  is  not  hard 


262  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

enough  work  for  the  ambitious  aspirant  for  stout  triceps, 
he  can  vary  it  by  clapping  his  hands  between  the  dips,  just 
as  his  face  is  farthest  from  the  floor ;  though  in  such  case  it 
is  sometimes  well  to  have  a  nose  accustomed  to  facing  diffi- 
culties. 

Place  two  stout  chairs  back  to  back,  and  then  draw  them 
about  eighteen  or  twenty  inches  apart,  and,  placing  one  hand 
on  each,  holding  the  arms  straight,  lift  the  feet  011"  the  floor. 
Now  lower  till  the  chin  is  level  with  the  hands,  or  nearly  so, 
and  then  rise  till  the  arms  are  straight,  and  then  dip  again, 
and  so  on,  the  knees  and  feet,  of  course,  never  resting  on  any 
thing. 

Forearm  Work. 

Any  thing  which  necessitates  shutting  the  hand,  or  keeping 
it  wholly  or  partly  shut,  such  as  holding  any  thing  heavy 
in  it,  driving,  chopping,  fencing,  single-stick,  pulling  one's 
self  up  with  one  hand  or  both,  batting,  lacrosse,  polo;  twist- 
ing the  dumb-bells  around  when  at  arm's  length,  or  a  chair, 
or  cane,  or  foil,  or  sword,  or  broom-handle,  if  the  dumb-bells 
are  not  convenient;  carrying  a  weight  in  the  hand;  using 
any  of  the  heavier  mechanical  hand-tools — all  these,  and 
more  of  their  sort,  will  enlarge  and  strengthen  the  forearm, 
and  will  do  much  for  the  hand  also. 

To  Obtain  a  Good  Biceps. 

Starting  with  the  dumb-bells  down  at  the  sides,  as  usual, 
raise  them  slowly  and  steadily  upward  in  front  until  they 
nearly  touch  the  shoulder — technically,  "  curl "  them — hold- 
ing the  head  up,  the  neck  rigidly  erect,  and  the  chest  ex- 
panded to  its  very  utmost.  Now  lower  the  bells  slowly  to 
the  sides  again,  and  repeat,  and  so  continue. 

If  no  dumb-bell  or  other  convenient  weight  is  at  hand 
place  one  hand  in  the  other  and  bear  down  hard  with  the 
upper  hand,  holding  the  chest  stubbornly  out.  Lift  away 
with  the  lower  hand,  and  when  it  reaches  the  shoulder  lower 
it  slowly  to  the  side,  and  then  raise  again,  and  so  continue. 


Appendix.  263 

Fasten  a  stout  hook  in  a  beam  overhead  and  hang  a  pulley 
to  it.  Run  a  rope  through  this,  at  one  end  of  which  you 
can  attach  weights  and  tie  the  other  to  the  middle  of  a  thick 
cane  or  other  bar,  taking  care  to  have  the  rope  of  such 
length  in  all  that  when  the  weight  is  on  the  floor  the  bar  is 
about  a  foot  above  your  head.  Begin  with,  say,  at  first 
a  weight  of  not  over  one  tenth  of  your  own  weight. 
Grasping  the  stick  with  both  hands,  with  their  palms  toward 
you,  draw  it  downward  until  level  with  your  chin,  then  let  it 
go  back ;  repeat,  and  continue  till  you  begin  to  tire.  If 
the  weight  seems  too  light  attach  another.  After  a  few 
days  with  these  fasten  on  a  basket  or  coal-hod,  and  increase 
the  load  until,  say  at  the  month's  end,  it  weighs  over  half 
of  what  you  weigh. 

If,  on  the  other  hand,  one  has  these  muscles  already  strong, 
and  can  with  ease  pull  himself  up  six  or  eight  times,  he  will 
find  this  stick  and  weight  an  excellent  affair  for  training 
the  biceps  of  one  arm,  until  it  gets  strong  enough  to  pull 
him  up  without  the  other  arm  at  all. 

Mount  a  ladder  or  a  rope  hand  over  hand  ;  lift  any  weight 
in  front  of  you,  whether  a  feather  or  a  barrel  of  sugar; 
pick  up  any  thing  from  the  floor ;  hold  weights  out  in  front, 
or  at  your  side,  at  arms'-length ;  pull  downward  on  a  rope, 
as  in  hauling  up  a  sail ;  hammer — in  short,  do  any  thing 
which  bends  the  elbow  and  draws  the  hand  in  toward  the 
shoulder,  thus  taxing  the  biceps  muscle ;  and  if  the  work 
is  vigorous  and  persisted  in,  this  muscle  will  erelong  become 
strong  and  well  shaped. 

To  Bring  Up  the  Muscles  on  the  Front  and  Side  of  the 

Shoulder. 

For  these  muscles  holding  out  weights  at  arms'-length, 
either  at  the  side  or  in  front,  will  be  found  just  what  is 
wanted,  the  arms  being  horizontal,  or  the  hands  being  held 
rather  higher  than  that,  the  elbows  remaining  unbent.  Hold- 
ing the  mere  weight  <>i  the  hands,  as  in  boxing,  but  keeping 
at  it  a  while,  keeps   these  muscles  well  Occupied  ;   while  the 


264  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

sword,  or  foil,  or  single-stick,  freely  plied,  or  the  ax  or  bat, 
tell  directly  here. 

Filling  Out  the  Shoulders  and  Upper  Back. 

Stand  erect  again  with  the  chin  up  and  chest  high  (in  all 
the  exercises  stand  erect  where  it  is  possible),  and  have  the 
dumb-bells  in  the  hands,  hanging  easily  at  the  sides. 

Now  carry  them  slowly  backward  and  upward,  keeping 
the  arms  straight  at  the  elbows,  and  parallel  until  the  hands 
are  about  as  high  as  they  can  well  go.  Hold  them  there  a 
moment,  then  drop  them  slowly  to  the  sides.  Do  it  again, 
and  keep  on  until  you  begin  to  feel  like  stopping. 

Laying  one  dumb-bell  down,  now  repeat  the  above  exer- 
cise with  the  remaining  one,  say  in  the  right  hand,  this  time 
placing  the  left  hand  on  the  back  just  under  the  right  arm, 
or  on  the  inner  portion  of  the  triceps  or  upper  muscle  of 
the  right  arm.  These  muscles  will  be  found  vigorously  at 
work,  and  hardening  more  and  more  the  higher  the  bell  is 
carried  ov  the  longer  it  is  held  up. 

Development  Above  the  Waist. 

"With  a  pair  of  dumb-bells,  at  first  weighing  not  over  one 
thirtieth  of  the  weight  of  the  person  using  them,  and  grad- 
ually, as  the  strength  increases,  substituting  larger  ones, 
until  they  weigh,  say,  one-tenth  of  the  person's  weight,  there 
is  scarcely  a  muscle  above  the  belt  which  cannot,  by  steady 
and  systematic  work  of  never  over  one  half  hour  daily,  be 
rounded  and  strengthened  up  to  what  it  ought  to  be  in  a 
thoroughly  developed,  strong,  and  efficient  person  of  its 
owner's  sex,  size,  and  age,  if  long  enough  continued. 

To  Enlarge  and  Give  Power  to  the  Loins. 

All  stooping  over  when  lifting  is  done,  as  with  a  spade,  or 
fork,  or  bar,  whether  the  knees  are  held  straight  or  bent,  or 
lifting  any  weight  directly  in  the  hands,  horizontal  pulling, 
on  a  pulley- wTeight,  rope,  or  oar — in  short,  nearly  every  sort 


Appendix.  265 

of  work  where  the  back  is  actively  employed,  keeps  these 
muscles  thoroughly  active.  You  cannot  bend  over  without 
using  them. 

Counterwork  foe  the  Abdominal  Muscles. 

Stand  erect.  Now  gradually  draw  the  head  and  shoulders 
backward  until  as  far  past  the  vertical  as  possible.  Return 
slowly  to  erect  position. 

All  work  such  as  swinging  clubs,  or  an  axe  or  sledge  ; 
putting  up  dumb-bells,  especially  when  both  hands  go  up 
together  ;  swinging  by  the  hanc}^  from  rope  or  bar,  or  pull- 
ing the  body  up  until  the  chin  touches  the  hands  ;  standing 
with  back  to  pulley- weights,  and  taking  the  handles  in  the 
hands,  and,  starting  with  them  high  over  the  head,  then 
pushing  the  hands  far  out  forward  ;  standing  two  or  more 
feet  from  the  wall,  and,  placing  the  hands  side  by  side  against 
it,  about  as  high  up  as  the  shoulders,  then  throwing  the 
chest  as  far  forward  as  possible — these  all  do  excellent  serv- 
ice in  bringing  to  these  important  muscles  the  length  and 
elasticity  they  ought  to  have,  and  so  contributing  materially 
to  the  erect  carriage  of  the  body.  All  kinds  of  pushing  with 
the  hands,  such  as  one  does  in  putting  them  against  any 
heavy  substance  and  trying  to  push  it  before  him,  striking 
out  in  boxing,  in  fencing,  or  single-stick,  with  dumb-bells, 
or  in  swimming,  are  capital ;  while  the  drawing  of  the  head 
back  swiftly,  as  in  boxing,  to  avoid  a  blow,  can  hardly  be 
surpassed  as  an  aid  in  this  direction. 

The  Abdominal  Muscles. 

Lie  flat  on  the  back,  as,  for  instance,  just  on  awaking. 
Taking  first  a  deep  full  breath,  draw  the  feet  upward,  keep- 
ing the  knees  unbent,  until  the  legs  are  vertical.  Lower 
tin 'in  slowly  till  horizontal,  then  raise  again  and  continue. 
It  will  not  take  many  minutes,  or  seconds,  to  bring  these 
muscles  enough  work  for  one  morning. 

Or,  this  time  keeping  the  Legs  down,  and  first  filling  the 
chest,  now  draw  the  body  up  until  you  are  sitting  erect. 
12 


266  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

Then  draw  slowly  back,  and  repeat.  This  will  be  likely  to 
take  even  less  time  than  did  the  other,  but  it  will  tell 
tremendously  on  these  muscles. 

To  Develop  the  Leg  Below  the  Knee. 

The  main  part  of  the  leg,  below  the  knee,  for  instance,  is 
composed  of  muscles  which  raise  the  heel.  Stand  erect, 
with  the  head  high,  chest  out,  and  shoulders  down,  keeping 
the  knees  all  the  time  well  sprung  back,  having  the  feet 
about  three  inches  apart,  with  the  toes  turned  slightly 
outward.  Now  slowly  raise  the  heels  until  they  are  high  off 
the  floor,  and  the  whole  weight  rests  on  the  soles  and  toes. 
Now  drop  slowly  down.  Then  repeat.  Next  place  the  hand 
on  the  muscles  of  the  calf,  and,  while  at  first  not  firm,  feel 
them  harden  as  you  rise,  and  all  doubt  as  to  whether  the 
exercise  in  question  uses  these  muscles  will  speedily  vanish. 
Continue  this  exercise  at  the  same  rate,  keeping  at  it  until 
you  have  risen  fifty  times. 

There  remains  one  other  prominent  muscle  below  the 
knee,  that  in  front,  running  down  along  the  outer  side  of 
the  shinbone.  Fast  walking  when  one  is  unused  to  it, 
especially  when  the  knees  are  held  pretty  straight,  will 
work  this  muscle  so  vigorously  as  to  make  it  sore.  But  a 
plain,  safe,  and  simple  exercise  for  it,  yet  one  which,  if 
protracted,  will  soon  swell  it  into  notice,  and  give  it  un- 
wonted strength  and  beauty,  is  effected  by  stooping  down 
as  low  as  possible,  the  feet  being  but  a  few  inches  apart, 
and  the  heels  never  being  allowed  to  rise  even  a  quarter  of 
an  inch  off  the  floor.  Lift  the  heels,  and  this  muscle  is  at 
once  relieved. 

Laying  any  weight  on  the  foot,  and  lifting  it  clear  from 
the  ground,  will  also  call  on  this  muscle.  Simply  standing 
on  one  foot,  first  holding  the  other  clear  of  the  floor,  and 
then  drawing  it  up  as  near  as  possible  to  the  front  of  its  own 
ankle,  and  then  opening  it  as  wide  as  you  can,  will  be  found 
a  safe  and  reasonably  effective  way  of  bringing  forward  this 


Appendix.  267 

small  but  useful  muscle  ;  while  walking  on  the  heels,  with 
the  toes  drawn  up  high,  is  simpler  yet. 

Work  for  the  Front  of  the  Thigh. 

Scarcely  any  muscles  are  more  easily  brought  into  action 
than  these  of  the  upper  or  front  thigh.  Stand  erect,  with  head 
and  chest  high,  and  the  feet  about  six  inches  apart.  Now, 
bend  the  knees  a  little,  say  until  the  head  has  dropped  verti- 
cally six  inches.  Then  rise  to  the  perpendicular  again.  This 
movement  is  very  much  akin  to  that  in  dancing,  the  latter 
being  the  harder  of  the  two,  because  the  weight  is  first  on  one 
foot,  and  then  on  the  other,  while  in  the  former  it  is  always 
on  both. 

A  more  severe  tax  yet  is  had  by  holding  one  foot  far  out, 
either  in  front  or  back,  and  then  stooping  down  wholly  on 
the  other  foot.  Few  can  do  this  many  times,  and  most 
persons  cannot  do  this  at  all. 

Jumping  itself,  either  high  or  flat,  is  admirable  for  the 
thighs.  Maclaren  says  that  hardly  any  work  will  quicker 
bring  up  the  whole  legs  ;  but  this  will  probably  prove  true 
where  a  large  number  of  moderate  jumps  are  taken  daily 
than  where  a  few  extreme  efforts  are  made. 

Both  fast  walking  and  running  bring  vigorous  action  to 
these  muscles  ;  slow  walking  does  Uttle  for  them,  hence  the 
number  of  weak,  undeveloped  thighs  among  men  who  do 
little  or  no  quick  foot- work. 

Hopping,  which  is  so  good  for  the  calves,  is  hardly  less  so 
for  these  muscles,  and  is  one  of  the  best  possible  movements 
to  develop  them  in  the  shortest  time. 

A  more  moderate  exercise  than  the  running,  though  not 
always  so  available,  is  walking  up  hill.  This,  besides,  as 
already  mentioned,  doing  so  much  for  the  calves,  tells  directly 
and  markedly  on  the  thighs  as  well.  Skating  makes  a  pleasant 
substitute  for  walking  during  a  part  of  the  colder  months, 
and,  when  much  distance  is  covered  daily,  brings,  strong 
shapely  thighs. 

All  lifting  of  heavy  objects  from  the  ground  tells  heavily 


268  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

on  these  muscles,  but  occasional  heavy  lifting  tends  rather 
to  harden  than  to  rapidly  increase  its  size,  protracted  effort 
at  lighter  but  good-sized  weights  doing  the  latter  to  better 
advantage. 

Brisk  horseback -riding  keeps  these  muscles  very  actively 
employed.  Every  sort  of  work  which  calls  for  frequent 
stooping  down  does  the  same. 

To  Enlarge  the  Under  Thigh. 

The  muscles  of  the  under  thigh  do  not  get  nearly  so  much 
to  do  as  those  in  front,  in  many  persons  seeming  not  to  exist 
at  all.  The  exercise  already  recommended,  of  pressing  the 
sole  of  the  foot  hard  on  the  ground  just  as  it  leaves  it,  is 
scarcely  more  beneficial  to  the  muscles  of  the  calf  than  to 
these  ;  likewise  walking  up  hill.  Fastening  a  weight  of  any 
sort,  a  dumb-bell  or  flat-iron,  to  the  ankle,  say  with  strap  or 
towel,  and  raising  the  foot  as  high  up  backward  and  outward 
as  possible,  and  repeating  until  tired ;  putting  the  foot  in 
the  handle  of  a  pulling-weight,  and  frequently  drawing  it 
far  down  ;  or,  standing  with  back  to  the  wall,  and  placing 
the  heel  against  the  base-board  of  the  room,  or  any  solid 
vertical  surface,  and  pressing  hard  many  times — these  all 
tell  on  the  hidden  under-muscle. 

To  Strengthen  the  Sides  op  the  Waist. 

Notice  a  man  weak  just  here,  and  see  his  body  sway  a  lit- 
tle from  side  to  side  as  he  walks,  seeming  to  give  at  the 
waist.  Were  such  a  one  to  practice  daily  hopping  straight 
ahead  on  one  foot,  and  then  on  the  other,  until  he  could  by- 
and-by  cover  half  a  mile  without  fatigue,  he  would  find 
his  swaying  propensity  fast  disappearing  ;  and  if  he  has  been 
troubled  with  a  feeble  or  unshapely  waist,  that  will  also  have 
gradually  changed,  until  at  the  end  it  has  become  firm  and 
well-set. 

Take  the  long  balancing  pole  of  the  tight-rope  walker  and 
try  to  walk  a  rope  a  while,  or  try  the  more  simple  expedient 
of  walking  on  the  railroad  rail,  and  these  muscles  are  at  once 


Appendix.  269 

uncommonly  busy.  Notice  the  professional  tight-rope  man 
and  see  how  strong  he  is  here.  His  profession  has  compelled 
the  continued  use  of  these  muscles. 

Daily  Exeecise  for  Wo^iex. 

And  what  should  the  girls  and  women  do  each  day? 
With  one-pound  wooden  dumb-bells  at  first,  let  them,  be- 
fore breakfast,  go  through  with  the  exercises  already  given 
to  develop  the  chest  (page  259).  After  six  weeks  or  two 
months  they  can  increase  the  number  gradually,  and  if  this 
does  not  bring  the  desired  increase  in  size  and  strength  of 
arm,  chest,  and  back,  they  can  try  dumb-bells  weighing  four 
or  five  pounds  each. 

Out  of  doors,  either  in  the  latter  part  of  the  morning 
or  afternoon,  let  them,  in  broad,  easy  shoes,  walk  for  one 
hour,  not  at  any  listless  two-mile  pace,  but  at  first  as  fast  as 
they  comfortably  can,  and  then  gradually  increase  the  pace. 
In  a  fortnight  or  more  they  can  make  sure  of  three  miles  and 
a  half  at  least,  if  not  of  four  miles  within  the  hour,  and  that 
without  great  fatigue. 

Girls  should  also  learn  to  run.  Few  of  them  are  either 
easy  or  graceful  runners ;  but  it  is  an  accomplishment 
quickly  learned;  and  begun  at  a  short  distance  and  at  a  slow 
jog  and  continued  until  the  girl  thinks  nothing  of  running 
a  mile  in  seven  minutes,  and  that  without  once  touching  a 
heel  to  the  ground,  it  will  do  more  than  almost  any  other 
known  exercise  to  make  her  graceful  and  easy  on  her  feet, 
and  also  to  enlarge  and  strengthen  her  lungs. 

If  besides  these  things  the  girl  or  woman  will  determine 
that,  as  much  as  possible  of  the  time  each  day  in  which  she 
is  sitting  down,  she  will  sit  with  head  and  neck  up,  trunk 
erect,  and  with  her  shoulders  low,  and  that  whenever  she 
stands  or  walks  she  will  at  all  times  be  upright)  she  will 
shortly  find  that  she  is  getting  to  be  far  Btraighter  than  she 
was,  that  six-  has  a  larger,  finer  chest  than  formerly,  and  that 
she  can  mure  easily  till  her  lungs. 


270 


Physiology  and  Hygiene. 


Anthropometey. 

The  question  naturally  arises,  What  should  be  considered 
the  normal  development  for  a  healthy  adult.  Up  to  fourteen, 
girls  as  a  rule  are  slightly  heavier  and  taller  than  boys,  but 
after  that  time  the  average  boy  is  larger  than  the  girl  of  the 
same  age.  As  a  standard  of  comparison,  and  for  learning 
what  parts  are  deficient  in  one  desiring  symmetrical  develop- 
ment, we  add  the  following  table  by  the  courtesy  of  the  Nar- 
ragansett  Chest  Weight  Company: 

A  TABLE 

Showing  the  Pbopeb   Weight,   Height,  and  Measurement  of  a  Folly 

Developed  Adult. 


1 

X 

*s 

PS 

J3 

'3 

S. 

5 

s 

d 

o 
Ee, 

,3 

H 

3 

5  ft. 

5  "    1  in. 

103-107 
107-111 

1H 

32-33 
33-34 

29 
29* 

S-i 

o 

8^ 

°8 

4 

15 

16 

5  "    2  " 
5  "    3  " 

111-116 
116-121 

12 
12£ 

34-35 
35-36 

30 
30£ 

03 

03 

n 

10 

17 
18 

c3 

5  "  4  " 

121-127 

13 

36-37 

31 

+3 

lOf 

19 

5  •'  5  " 

127-133 

13± 

37-38 

3l£ 

lof 

11} 

20 

&    . 

EM 

5  "   6  " 

133-140 

14 

38-39 

32 

21 

5  "  1  " 

140-147 

m 

39-40 

321 

p  a 

111 

22 

S  a 

5  "    8  " 

147-155 

15 

40-41 

33 

111 

23 

c3 

5  "    9  " 

155-164 

15* 

41-42 

33| 

B 

i4 

24 

a 

5  "10  " 

164-174 

16 

42-43 

34 

12j 

25 

5  "11  " 

174-185 

16$ 

43-44 

34| 

B 

13 

26 

a 

6  " 

185-196 

17 

44-45 

35 

c3 

13f 

27 

o3 
OS 

Furthermore  a  few  explanatory  words  should  be  added  as  to 
the  exact  methods  which  have  been  agreed  upon  for  making 
these  measurements:  1.  Weight,  if  possible,  should  be  taken 
without  clothes,  but  where  this  is  impracticable  the  weight 
of  the  clothing  should  be  learned,  and  subsequently  deducted. 
2.  JVeck  girth  should  be  taken  by  passing  the  tape  around 
the  neck  just  below  "Adam's  Apple."     (See  page  167.) 

The  chest  should  be  measured  by  a  tape  embracing  it  so  as 
to  pass  over  the  lower  part  of  the  shoulder  blades,  with  the 


Appendix.  271 

arms  held  horizontally.  Chest  girth  should  be  taken  before 
and  after  inspiration. 

Waist  should  be  measured  at  the  smallest  part  after  a  nat- 
ural expiration. 

Biceps  can  best  be  measured  by  bending  the  arm  hard  at 
the  elbow  and  holding  it  horizontally  away  from  the  body, 
passing  the  tape  around  the  greatest  prominence  on  the  arm. 

Forearm  is  measured  by  the  tape  being  passed  around  the 
largest  part,  the  fist  being  firmly  clenched  and  the  palm  of 
the  hand  turned  upward. 

Thigh.  Stand  with  the  feet  about  six  inches  apart,  with 
the  weight  equally  distributed  on  each  leg,  and  measure  the 
thigh  just  below  the  nates. 

Calf.  Stand  as  for  measurement  of  thigh  and  take 
the  measurement  around  the  most  prominent  part  of  the 
calf. 

Furthermore,  in  addition  to  the  measurements  already  pro- 
posed, special  attention  should  be  called  to  the  defects  most 
frequently  found  from  the  disproportionate  use  of  the  various 
parts  of  the  body;  for  instance,  the  head  is  drawn  oftener 
forward  than  backward,  and  hence  as  a  rule  the  head  is  held 
too  far  forward.  For  similar  reasons  the  muscles  of  the  right 
arm  tend  to  pull  that  shoulder  down,  except  in  the  case  of 
left-handed  people,  when  the  reverse  is  true.  Lack  of  use 
of  the  muscles  of  the  back  converts  the  shoulder-blades  into 
"  wings,"  and  thin,  narrow  waists  come  from  lack  of  use  of 
the  waist  muscles,  etc.  Important  as  are  these  defects  in  the 
adult,  they  are  still  more  so  in  the  growing  child,  where  they 
are  more  easily  remediable  than  in  the  adult. 

Physical  Defects  Common  in  Children  and  Adults. 

With  children  the  most  frequent  of  these  defects,  as  noted 
by  Dr.  W.  G.  Anderson,  are  the  following,  concerning  which 
it  should  be  remembered  that  three  months  may  possibly 
correct  some,  but  that  a  year  is  oftener  required  to  straighten 
round  shoulders,  and  a  longer  time  for  a  crooked  spine. 
"  After  fifteen  or  sixteen  years  of  age  it  is  a  long  and 


272  Physiology  and  Hygiene. 

tedioics  task,  and  such  as  no  one  of  that  age  will  work  at 
alone,"  says  Dr.  Anderson,  after  his  wide  experience  in  these 
matters,  and  hence  the  very  great  value  of  class  work  in 
the  development  of  children. 

(a.)  Head. — Droops  forward. 

Carried  on  one  side. 
(&.)  Shoulders. — Round,  stooped,  or  sloping. 
Right  lower  than  left. 

In  left-handed  people  the  reverse  is  generally  seen. 
The  lower  and  inner  border  of  the  shoulder-blade  is  too 
prominent. 
(c.)  Spine. — Lateral  curve  of  the  spine  between  shoulders. 
(d.)  Arms. — The  forearm  larger  in  proportion  than  upper. 
(e.)  Waist. — Small,  narrow,  and  weak. 
(/.)  Hips. — Thrown  too  far  forward. 
(g.)  Leg. — Developed  more  than  thigh. 
(h.)  Thigh. — Poorly  developed  on  the  back  and  inside. 

The  exercises  which  have  been  found  most  helpful  for  the 
correction  of  the  common  defects  of  children  are  given,  es- 
pecial pains  having  been  taken  to  select  those  that  can  be 
performed  without  expensive  apparatus. 

(a.)  Head. — To  correct  drooping,  move  the  head  backward 
and  sideward,  but  not  to  the  front.  Roll  the  head  from  left 
to  right  backward,  and  throw  the  head  to  the  rear  as  far  as 
possible,  keeping  it  level. 

(b.)  Shoulders. — To  elevate  a  depressed  shoulder,  raise  the 
arm,  rigid,  to  the  front  or  side.  Draw  the  shoulder  as  high 
as  possible.  To  draw  the  shoulders  back,  raise  the  arms  to 
the  front  and  force  them  back  as  far  as  possible,  for  any 
motion  by  which  the  hands  come  together  back  of  the  body 
is  a  good  one.  Place  the  hands  on  the  hips,  thumbs  forward 
and  fingers  touching  back,  or  clasp  the  hands  back  of  the 
head  and  force  the  elbows  back  as  far  as  possible.  To  return 
protuberant  shoulder-blades  to  their  places,  any  motion 
whereby  the  hands  or  arms  are  brought  together  behind  the 
body  is  helpful,  as  are  full  swinging  motions  of  the  arms 
from  front  to  rear. 

(c.)  Spine. — Any  movement  that  will  level  the  shoulders 


Appendix.  273 

will  tend  to  cure  lateral  curvature  and  draw  the  shoulders  to 
their  proper  position. 

To  depress  a  shoulder,  any  movement  whereby  the  hand  is 
drawn  to  the  side  forcibly  or  to  the  front  or  back  of  the  body. 

(d.)  Arms. — To  develop  the  front  upper  arm,  any  move- 
ment that  will  bring  the  hand  to  the  shoulder  or  the  shoulder 
to  the  hand. 

To  develop  the  back  upper  arm,  any  movement  that  will  push 
the  hand  from  the  shoulder  or  the  shoulder  from  the  hand. 

To  develop  the  front  forearm,  any  movement  drawing 
the  palmar  surface  of  the  hand  toward  the  elbow  and  clinch- 
ing the  hand. 

The  back  forearm,  opening  the  hand.  Drawing  the  back 
of  the  hand  toward  the  elbow. 

To  develop  the  chest,  any  movement  where  the  hands  are 
drawn  to  the  front  of  the  body. 

(e.)  Waist. — Front,  any  movement  that  bends  the  body 
forward. 

Sides.  Any  movement  that  bends  the  body  to  one  side 
will  develop  that  side. 

Back.     Bending  the  body  backward. 

General  rules:  A  rolling  motion  of  the  body  on  the  hips. 
Twisting  the  shoulders  to  right  or  left. 

(f.)  Hips. — To  draw  the  hips  back,  bend  the  body  forward 
and  backward.  Raise  each  knee  as  high  as  possible.  Raise 
each  leg  without  bending  the  knee. 

(g.)  Legs. — Back.  Any  movement  that  raises  the  body  on 
the  toes. 

Front.     Any  movement  that  raises  the  toes. 

(h.)  TJxigh. — Front.  Any  movement  that  pushes  the  heels 
from  the  hips  or  the  hips  from  the  heels. 

Back.  Any  movement  that  draws  the  hips  to  the  heels  or 
the  heels  to  the  hips. 

Inside.  Any  movement  that  crosses  the  knees  in  front  or 
behind. 

(i.)  Ankles. — The    leg    movements    will    strengthen    the 
ankl< 
12* 


274 


Physiology  and  Hygiene. 


Throw  the  ankles  apart  by  bending  feet  to  the  side.  Give 
a  rotary  motion  to  each  foot  when  raised  from  the  floor. 

(j.)  Toes. — To  cure  what  is  commonly  called  "pigeon 
toes,"  or  "  toeing  in,"  keep  the  heel  on  the  floor,  and,  raising 
the  toes  of  the  right  foot,  turn  them  forcibly  to  the  right  as 
far  as  possible. 

(k.)  Chest. — Cultivation  of  deep  inspiration  is  exceedingly 
valuable  in  all  cases  of  rickety  or  scrofulous  children,  or  when 
there  is  any  family  history  of  consumption.  Dr.  Anderson 
recommends  the  use  of  the  spirometer  for  this  purpose. 
According  to  Hutchinson,  the  chief  authority  on  the  use  of 
this  instrument,  persons  should  "blow"  according  to  their 
height.  It  will  be  seen  by  glancing  at  the  tables  given  that 
there  is  a  difference  of  eight  cubic  inches  for  each  inch  in 
height. 


A  Boy. 

In.  height. 

48      should  Klow 

en.  in. 

70 

In.  height. 

48  shoulc 

49  " 

50  " 

51  " 

52  « 

53  " 

54  " 

55  " 

56  " 

57  " 

58  " 

59  " 

60  " 

61  " 

62  " 

63  " 

64  " 

65  « 

66  " 

67  " 

68  " 

69  " 

70  " 

71  " 

72  " 

A  Girl. 
blow 

en.  in. 

32 

49 

ii           (i 

78 

ii 

40 

50 

a           << 

86 

ii 

48 

51 

11                  a 

94 

<t 

56 

52 

((              « 

(1                   (I 

102 
110 

<( 

64 

53 

a 

72 

54 

II             II 

((              II 

118 
.    126 

a 

80 

*>5 

a 

88 

56 

(1             (( 
<(               u 

....    134 
142 

a 

96 

57 

a 

a 

104 

58 

((              II 
ii            a 

150 
158 

112 

59 

a 

a 
a 

120 

60 
61 

a            ii 
ii            ii 

u            <( 
ii            ii 
ii            (i 

166 

,  .      174 
182 
190 

198 

128 

136 

62 
63 
64 

a 
H 

a 
a 
a 
a 
a 

144 

152 

160 

65 
66 

67 
68 

<(             (i 
a              II 
<<              il 
ii              li 
li              ii 
ii              a 
((             <( 
u              it 

,  ,  .      206 

.      214 

,      222 

,  ,      230 

238 

.      246 

,      254 

262 

168 

176 

184 

192 

69 
70 
71 

72 

(i 
a 
a 
a 

200 

208 

216 

224 

Where  a  spirometer  is  not  accessible  excellent  results  may 
be  obtained  by  the  use  of   Julian    Hawthorne's  directions, 


Appexdix.  275 

to  inspire  for  seven  steps  and  expire  for  the  same  time,  or 
even,  slow,  deep  inspirations  and  expirations  (seven  to  eight 
per  minute),  through  a  quill  or  straw,  are  exceedingly 
valuable  for  the  expansion  of  sunken  chests.  Such  methods 
will  slowly  but  surely  broaden  and  deepen  the  chest  of  scrof- 
ulous, rickety,  and  consumptive  children;  and  when  con- 
joined with  good  plain  diet — beef,  eggs,  and  milk — and  sen- 
sible clothing,  will  lengthen  their  days  and  build  them  up 
into  the  vigorous  manhood  and  womanhood  that  it  has  been 
the  aim  of  this  book  to  inculcate  as  the  duty  and  privilege  of 
all  tenants  of  the  "  House  Beautiful." 


INDEX. 


Abdominal  aorta,  59. 

Abdominal  cavity,  58. 

Abdominal  muscles,  to  develop,  265. 

Abdominal  viscera,  58. 

Absorbents  of  intestine,  94. 

Abstinence,  value  of,  83. 

Adam's  apple,  167. 

Adenine,  148. 

Adipocere,  54. 

Adulteration  of  food,  87,  88. 

Aerobians,  242. 

Air-cells,  151-158. 

Albuminoid  ammonia,  69. 

Albuminoid  foods,  80. 

Albuminoids  of  body,  74. 

Alcohol,  13. 

Alcohol  as  a  medicine,  85. 

Alcohol  as  a  food,  84. 

Alcohol  and  cold,  85. 

Alcohol  and  co-ordination,  202. 

Alcoholic  fermentation,  233. 

Alveoli,  151. 

American  voice,  171. 

Ammoniaphone,  172. 

Amount  of  food,  62. 

Anaemia,  110. 

Anaerobians,  242. 

Anastomoses,  124. 

Aniline  colors,  241. 

Anorexia,  83. 

Anterior  root  of  cord,  191. 

Anthrax,  243. 

Antipathies,  115. 

Antiseptic  surgery,  249. 

Anvil  of  ear,  205. 

Aorta,  127. 

Apoplexy,  118. 

Arachnoid,  189. 

Arbor  vitae,  203. 

Areolar  tissue,  21. 

Ami,  divisions  of,  44. 

Arteries,  124. 

Arterial  hemorrhage,  123. 

Artificial  eggs,  89. 

Arytenoid  ciurtilages,  167. 

Asphyxia,  106,156. 

Atoms,  VJ.r>. 

Atrophy  of  muscle,  50. 


Audible  sounds,  208. 
Auricles  of  heart,  121. 
Automatic  centers,  202. 
Axillary  arteries,  127. 

Bacilli,  241. 

Bacillus  anthracis,  239. 

Bacillus  lepra?,  239. 

Bacillus  malarias,  239. 

Bacillus  subtilis,  239. 

Bacillus  tuberculosis,  244. 

Backbone,  41. 

Bacteria,  multiplication  of,  232. 

Bacterium  termo,  239. 

Bad  air,  154. 

Bad  breath,  134. 

Bad  taste  in  mouth,  133. 

Basement  membrane,  14. 

Bass  voice,  169. 

Bathing,  135. 

Beef,  chemistry  of,  63. 

Beer,  action  of,  54. 

Biceps,  to  develop,  262. 

Bile,  66,  81,  146. 

Bilious  attack,  145. 

Black  death,  136. 

Bleached  butter,  88. 

Bleached  hair,  17. 

Bleeders,  99. 

Bleeding,  147. 

Blisters,  132. 

Blood,  66,  106. 

Blood  clot,  98. 

Blood  placques,  109. 

Blood  plasma,  99. 

Blood  serum,  95. 

Blushing,  128. 

Body  building,  257. 

Boils,  147. 

Bones,  66. 

Bones  at  Cologne,  35. 

Bone  cells,  36.    , 

Bone  fertilizer,  37. 

Bone  gelatine,  36. 

Bow  legs,  32. 

Brachial  arteries,  127. 

Brain,  the,  200. 

Brain  fever,  209. 


278 


Physiology  and  Hygiene. — Index. 


Bread,  chemistry  of,  65. 
Breast-bone,  40. 
Bright's  disease,  141. 
Bronchi,  127. 
Bronchial  arteries,  127. 
Bronchioles,  151. 
Bronze  age  of  man,  26. 
Bush,  the  burning,  152. 
Business  men,  exercise  for,  259. 
Butter,  adulterations  of,  87. 
Butterine,  87. 

Calcium,  quantity  of,  61. 
Calcium  phosphates,  74. 
Camera,  of  the  eye,  184. 
Canaliculi,  35. 
Cancellated  bone,  34. 
Canned  fruits,  231. 
Capillaries,  124. 
Carbo-hydrates,  72. 
Carbon,  61,  153. 
Carbonaceous  foods,  91. 
Carbonates  of  the  body,  73. 
Carbon  dioxide,  73,  116,  153. 
Care  of  the  ear,  208. 
Care  of  the  eyes,  185. 
Care  of  the  skin,  137. 
Carotid  arteries,  127. 
Cartilage,  21,  31,  66. 
Casein,  81. 
Catalepsy,  183. 
Catarrh,  130. 
Catching  cold,  129. 
Cause  of  sickness,  114. 
Cerebellum,  190,  192. 
Cerebro-spinal  system,  187. 
Cerebrum,  188. 
Chemical  affinity,  62. 
Chemistry  of  bones,  36. 
Chest,  bones  of,  58. 
Chest,  to  develop,  259,  260. 
Chicken  cholera,  242. 
Chicken  gizzards,  82. 
Chilliness,  129. 
Chinese  dwarfs,  32. 
Chinese  false  teeth,  77. 
Chinese  feet,  32. 
Chinese  physicians,  114. 
Chloride  of  sodium,  74. 
Chlorides  of  the  body,  73. 
Chlorine  in  body,  61. 
Chloroform,  240. 
Cholera,  68,  245. 
Choroid  coat,  178. 
Chrondrogen,  74. 
Chyme,  81. 
Chyle,  66,  94,  97. 
Cicatrix,  102. 
Cigarette-smoking,  120. 
Cilia  of  microbes,  240. 


Ciliated  epithelium,  151. 
Circulation,  course  of,  122. 
Circulation  in  lymphatics,  97. 
Circumvallate  papulae,  165. 
Clergymen's  sore  throat,  172. 
Coagulation,  98. 
Coal-tar  colors,  240. 
Coats  of  artery,  125. 
Coccyx,  44. 
Coeliac  axis,  59. 
Coffee,  89. 
Cold,  229. 

Colds,  treatment  of,  131. 
Collar  bones,  40. 
Color-blindness,  181. 
Color  of  hair,  16. 
Common  sense  shoes,  39. 
Complementary  colors,  180. 
Composition  of  foods,  63. 
Cones  of  kidney,  142. 
Congestion,  128. 
Congestion  of  the  lungs,  118. 
Connective  tissue,  21. 
Constituents  of  the  body,  61. 
Consumption,  159,  245. 
Convulsions,  48. 
Cooking,  74. 
Co-ordination,  201. 
Corium,  14. 
Corned  beef,  88. 
Corpus  callosum,  188. 
Corns,  19. 
Corsets,  39. 
Cortex  of  kidney,  142. 
Cosmetics,  20. 
Coughing,  159. 
Cowlicks,  16. 
Cramp,  48. 
Cranium,  188. 
Cribriform  plate,  173. 
Cricoid  cartilage,  167. 
Critical  periods  of  life,  27. 
Cuckoo  bone,  44. 
Culture- fluids,  238. 
Curd  of  milk,  79. 
Curdling  ferments,  81. 
Curling  of  hair,  16. 
Cuts  and  wounds,  20. 

Daily  shrinking,  41. 

Dairy  products,  chemistry  of,  63. 

Dandruff,  17. 

Dangerous  water,  70. 

Dead  teeth,  77. 

Deafness,  208. 

Death,  modes  of,  228. 

Delicacy  of  smell,  174. 

Dessicated  eggs,  89. 

Dextrine,  81. 

Diaphragm,  57,  58, 160. 


Physiology  and  Hygiene. — Index. 


279 


Diaphragm,  rupture  of,  161. 
Digestion,  81. 
Diphtheria,  150. 
Dirty  saints,  135. 
Division  of  cells,  33. 
Double  tube,  man,  57. 
Dress  reform,  114. 
Drink,  amount  of,  66. 
Drinking  water,  69. 
Dropsy,  22. 
Drowsiness,  153. 
Drum  of  the  ear,  205. 
Duodenum,  59. 

Duke  of  Gloucester's  bath,  138. 
Dura  mater,  189. 
Dyspepsia,  60,  81. 

Earache,  206. 
Ears,  205. 

Earthy  salts  of  bone,  36. 
East  Indian  fakirs.  50. 
Eburnated  bone,  34. 
Eggs,  chemistry  of,  63. 
Egyptian  mummies,  230. 
Elastic  tissue,  66. 
Elbow  joint,  57. 
Emulsive  ferment,  81. 
Enamel  of  teeth,  76. 
Encephalon,  187. 
Endothelium,  125. 
Enlarged  glands,  96. 
Epidermis,  13. 
Epiglottis,  167. 
Epithelial  scales,  10. 
Epithelium,  132. 
Erythopsin,  180. 
Etruscan  kings,  230. 
Eupepsia,  81. 
Excretion,  137. 
Exercise,  51,  257. 
Exercise  for  girls,  111. 
Exercise,  time  for,  258. 
Eyeball,  177. 
Evebrows,  177. 
Eyelids,  177. 

Face  bones,  43. 
Faith-cures,  251. 
Fainting,  115. 
False  teeth,  77. 
Fascia,  22,  46. 
Fat,  66. 

Fat,  advantages  of,  52. 
Fat  cells,  52. 
Fats  as  food,  72. 
Fatigue,  229,  258. 
Fatty  degeneration,  51. 
Feathers,  16. 
Fermentation,  234. 
Fibero  of  Corti,  807. 
Fibrine,  74,  98. 


Fibrinogen,  98. 

Fibrinoplastin,  98. 

Fibro-cartilage,  21. 

Filiform  papillae,  165. 

Filling  teeth,  77. 

Filth  and  sanctity,  135. 

Finger-nails,  18. 

Fingers,  to  strengthen,  261. 

Fire,  229. 

First  intention  healing,  102. 

Fish  foods,  chemistry  of,  64. 

Fission  of  microbes,  242. 

Flannels,  141. 

Floating  ribs,  40. 

Flour,  adulterations  of,  87. 

Flourens'  law,  26. 

Flowers,  odor  of,  175. 

Fluorides  of  the  body,  73. 

Fluorine,  quantity  of,  61. 

Flying,  43. 

Food,  61. 

Food  as  fuel,  72. 

Food,  quantity  of,  83. 

Foods,  division  of,  72. 

Foods  for  microbes,  242. 

Fore-arm,  to  strengthen,  262. 

Fossil  bones,  25. 

Fowl,  chemistry  of,  63. 

Fractures,  57. 

Fragility  of  bones,  42. 

Free  acids  of  the  body,  73. 

French  heels,  39. 

Fungiform  papillse,  165. 

Funnels  of  kidney,  142. 

Furred  tongue,  18. 

Gall  bladder,  59. 

Ganglia,  187,  201. 

Ganglia  of  the  heart,  187. 

Gases  of  the  body,  61. 

Gastric  juice,  79. 

Gelatine,  23. 

Gemmation,  233. 

General  death,  227. 

Germinal  matter,  11. 

Gilding  the  skin,  139. 

Globulin,  74. 

Glottis,  168. 

Glucose,  81. 

Glue,  36. 

Gluttony,  60. 

GoMen  age  of  man,  26. 

Goose-skin,  16. 

Granulation,  103. 

Gray  substance  of  the  brain,  189. 

Grip,  to  strengthen,  261. 

Growth  of  the  body,  27. 

Haematoblasts,  108. 
Haemoglobine,  107. 


280 


Physiology  and  Hygiene. — Index. 


Hair  as  evidence,  15. 

Hair  dyes,  17. 

Hair  follicle,  15. 

Hairs,  number  of,  9. 

Hammer  of  the  ear,  205. 

Hand,  to  develop,  260. 

Harmless  germs,  247. 

Haversian  canals,  35. 

Hay  fever,  176. 

Headache,  153. 

Healing  of  a  wound,  101. 

Heart  disease,  117. 

Heart  sounds,  116. 

Heart,  weight  of,  121. 

Heat  and  spores,  238. 

Heat  apoplexy,  140. 

Heat  centers,  92. 

Heat  of  the  body,  92. 

Height  and  weight,  28. 

Hemispheres  of  the  brain,  188. 

Hiccough,  160. 

High  heels,  113. 

Hoarseness,  129. 

Hole,  Black,  of  Calcutta,  153. 

How  to  grow  old,  27. 

Hunger,  229. 

Hyaline  cartilage,  32. 

Hydration  and  digestion,  80. 

Hydrogen,  61,  73. 

Hydrophobia,  245. 

Idiosyncrasies,  166. 

Immunity  from  disease,  245. 

Infant  digestion,  78. 

Infant  foods,  79. 

Inflammation,  103. 

Inhalation  battery,  171. 

Innominate  artery,  127. 

Inorganic  constituents  of  body,  73. 

Inorganic  food,  73. 

Insalivation,  78. 

Insomnia,  196. 

Integument,  10. 

Inter  vascular  spaces,  125. 

Intervertebral  disks,  41. 

Intoxication,  149. 

Inverted  sugar,  81. 

Invertin,  81. 

Involuntary  muscles,  46,  47. 

Iron  age  or  man,  26. 

Iron  in  body,  61. 

John  "Wesley's  questions,  82. 
Joints  of  the  body,  57. 

Karyokinesis,  12. 

Keep  your  mouth  shut,  150. 

Keratin,  74. 

Kidneys,  66,  141. 

Kidney  dise,ase,  141. 


Kissing,  danger  of,  163. 
Kitchen  of  the  body,  60. 

Labials,  164. 
Lachrymal  duct,  177. 
Lachrymal  gland,  176. 
Lacteals,  80,  94. 
Lacunae  of  bone,  35. 
Lamellae  of  bone,  35. 
Leptothrix,  241. 
L'archee,  230. 
Laryngoscope,  168. 
Larynx,  167. 
Latticed  hone,  34. 
Laughing,  value  of,  162. 
Leaky  heart,  1 23. 
Leberwurst,  88. 
Legs,  bones  of,  44. 
Leucocytes,  104. 
Leucoamines,  148. 
Ligaments,  56. 
Light,  sensation  of,  179. 
Limit  of  work,  49. 
Liver,  59,  66. 
Living  skeletons,  22. 
Local  death,  226. 
Location  of  heart,  58,  120. 
Loins,  to  strengthen,  264. 
Long  bones,  33,  37. 
Longevity,  increase  in,  26. 
Loose  teeth,  77. 
Lower  leg,  to  develop,  266. 
Lungs,  156,  157,  158. 
Lymph,  66,  95. 
Lymphatic  glands,  95. 
Lymphatics  of  bone,  35. 

Macula  lutea,  178. 
Maggots,  232. 

Magnesium,  quantity  of,  61. 
Malaria,  245. 
Malphigian  capsule,  141. 
Manganese,  quantity  of,  61. 
Marsh  gas,  73. 
Mastication,  75. 
Mastodon  soup,  36. 
Measles,  245. 
Mediastinum,  156. 
Medulla  oblongata,  190. 
Medulla  of  kidney,  142. 
Membranes  of  the  brain,  189. 
Membrane  of  the  ear,  205. 
Metalloids  of  the  body,  61. 
Microbes,  103,  230. 
Micrococcus,  241. 
Micrococcus  septicus,  239. 
Microcytes,  109. 
Microscopic  eggs,  233. 
Middle  ear,  206. 
Milk,  66,  79. 


Physiology  and  Hygiene. — Index. 


281 


Milk,  digestion  of,  79. 
Milk  teeth,  75. 
Mitral  valve,  122. 
Molars,  78. 
Molecules,  252. 
Mouth  breathing,  151. 
Mucous  membrane,  132. 
Mucus,  66. 
Muscle,  45,  66. 
Muscles,  number  of,  45. 
Muscles,  naming  of,  45. 
Muscular  fibers,  46. 
Muscular  sense,  183. 
Music  and  color,  179. 
Mustard,  73. 

Mutton,  chemistry  of,  63. 
Mycoderma,  241. 
Myopia,  182. 

Nasal  inhalation,  151. 
Neck,  bones  of,  43. 
Nerves,  66. 
Nerve  cells,  189. 
Nerve  force,  193. 
Nerve  structure,  186. 
Nerve  tire,  197. 
Nerve  tuner,  195. 
Nervous  dyspepsia,  83. 
Neuralgia,  111,  197. 
Neurasthenia,  198. 
Nutritious  food,  86. 
Nitrates  of  the  body,  73. 
Nitrogen,  73. 
Nitrogen,  quantity  of,  61. 
Nitrogenous  food,  72. 
Non-nitrogenous  foods,  72. 
Norris's  corpuscles,  108. 
Noses,  study  of,  31. 

Odor  of  water,  69. 
Old  men,  26. 
Old  bones,  25. 
Oleomargarine,  88. 
Olfactory  nerve,  173. 
Optic  nerve,  178. 
Optic  thalamus,  192. 
Orbit,  178. 
Organic  germs,  246. 
Osmic  acid,  176. 
Ossification  of  cartilage,  33. 
Ostein,  74. 
Osteoblasts,  33. 
Overworked  muscles,  50. 
Oxygen,  73,  153. 

j  ii  and  fermentation,  234. 
Oxygen,  quantity  of,  61. 

Packing  of  i.erves,  203. 
Pain  of  dying,  228. 
Pancreas,  59. 


Pancreatic  diastase,  81. 
Pancreatic  fluid,  81. 
Papillae  of  fingers,  14. 
Paralysis,  54. 
Parotid  gland,  78. 
Patent  foods,  86. 
Pearl  powder,  43. 
Pelvis,  33,  44. 
Pepper,  73. 
Pepsin,  79,  81. 
Peptic  glands,  79. 
Peptone,  79,  80. 
Pericardium,  120. 
Perimysium,  56. 
Perivascular  spaces,  96. 
Perspiration,  138. 
Perspiration,  amount  of,  140. 
Pharynx,  166. 

Phosphates  of  the  body,  73. 
Phosphorus,  quantity  of,  61. 
Phrenology,  42. 
Pia-mater,  190. 
Pitch  of  voice,  168. 
Plague,  135. 
Plethora,  110. 
Pleura,  156. 
Plexus,  186. 
Plumpness,  51. 
Pomatum,  16. 
Poor  teeth,  75. 
Pork,  chemistry  of,  63,  75. 
Posterior  roots  of  cord,  191. 
Potable  water,  69. 
Potassium,  quantity,  61. 
Potatoes,  74. 
Prespyopia,  181. 
Price  of  food,  90. 
Protoplasm,  12. 
Psychic  force,  202. 
Ptoamines,  148. 
Pty aline,  81. 
Pulmonary  arteries,  122. 
Pulmonary  veins,  122. 
Pulse,  123. 

Purkinje,  substance  of,  186. 
Pus,  20,  103. 
Putrefaction,  231. 
Pylorus,  59,  81. 

Quarantine,  136. 

Rameses  II.,  24. 
Rain-water,  69. 
Red  corpuscles,  104,  105,  106. 
Red  corpuscles,  origin  of,  110. 
Regulation  of  heat,  140. 
Reins,  141. 
Residual  air,  158. 
Respiration,  152. 
Respiratory  centers,  202. 


282 


Physiology  and  Hygiene. — Index. 


Retina,  178. 
Ribs,  number  of,  40. 
Rickety  children,  42. 
Rigor  mortis,  47. 
River  water,  69. 
Rods  and  cones,  178. 
Root  of  tbe  lungs,  157. 
Roses,  odor  of,  176. 
Running,  269. 

Sacrum,  33. 

Saliva,  66,  75,  78. 

Salivary  diastase,  81. 

Salivary  glands,  78. 

Salt,  common,  74. 

Salts  and  coagulation,  100. 

Saratoga  chips,  89. 

Sarcina,  239. 

Sarcolemma,  56. 

Sausages,  88. 

Scapula?,  43. 

Scarf  skin,  13. 

Scarlet  fever,  245. 

Scars,  20. 

Scent,  173. 

Schwann,  substance  of,  186. 

Sclerotic  coat,  182. 

Scrofula,  96. 

Scurvy,  87. 

Sebaceous  glands,  15. 

Secretion,  137. 

Semicircular  canals,  206. 

Semilunar  valves.  122. 

Sensibility  of  retina,  180. 

Ser-albumen,  74. 

Sewer-gas  poisoning,  154. 

Sex,  relation  to  coagulation,  100. 

Shadoof,  the,  116. 

Shafts  of  long  bones,  34. 

Shaving,  172. 

Sheep  tag,  243. 

Shoulder-blades,  43. 

Shoulders,  to  develop,  263. 

Sick  headaches,  82. 

Sighing,  160. 

Sight  without  eyes,  183. 

Sigmoid  flexure,  150. 

Silkworm  disease,  243. 

Singing,  159. 

Sinuses  of  the  brain,  188. 

Sinews,  56. 

Six-year  molars,  76. 

Skeleton,  25,  33. 

Skin,  66. 

Skull,  a  box,  42. 

Skull,  arches  of,  42. 

Slang,  194. 

Sleep,  195. 

Sleeping-rooms,  154. 

Smelling,  173. 


Sneezing,  160. 

Snoring,  160. 

Sobbing,  160. 

Soda  water,  152. 

Sodium,  in  body  of,  61. 

Soft  palate,  166. 

Sound  waves,  169. 

Spaltpilze,  239. 

.Speaking  machines,  170. 

Speech,  164. 

Spinal  column,  41. 

Spinal  cord,  41,  66, 191. 

Spinal  curvature,  42. 

Spinal  fluid,  66. 

Spirilla?,  241. 

Spirillum  volutans,  239. 

Spleen,  59,  66. 

Sponge  baths,  140. 

Spongy  bone,  34. 

Spontaneous  generation,  232. 

Spores,  238. 

Sprains,  57. 

Spring  fever,  147. 

Spring  water,  69. 

Squinting,  181. 

Stairs,  39,  258. 

Stale  clothing,  138. 

Standing,  34,  37. 

Starches,  digestion  of,  81. 

Starchy  foods,  74,  80. 

Stepping,  38. 

Sterilization,  238. 

Stimulants,  84. 

Stomach,  59. 

Stomach  bitters,  134. 

St.  Vitus  dance,  48. 

Sublingual  glands,  78. 

Subclavian  arteries,  127. 

Submaxillary  glands,  78. 

Sudoriferous  glands,  137. 

Sugar,  90. 

Sulphates  of  the  body,  73. 

Sunstroke,  140. 

Sulphureted  hydrogen,  73. 

Supplemental  air,  158. 

Sweat  glands,  action  of,  138. 

Sweating  sickness,  the,  137. 

Synovial  fluid,  31. 

Sympathetic  nerves,  93. 

Sympathetic  nervous  system,  187 

Table  manners,  early  English,  136. 

Tactile  corpuscles,  14. 

Taste,  165. 

Taste  of  water,  70. 

Tear  jugs,  177. 

Tears,  137,  177. 

Teeth,  66,  75. 

Telephones,  205. 

Temperature  and  coagulation,  100. 


Physiology  and  Hygiene. — Index 


283 


Temperature  of  rooms,  155. 

Tendon,  56. 

Tenor,  i69. 

Thigh,  to  develop,  267,  268. 

Thennogenesis,  92. 

Thermolysis,  92. 

Thermotaxy,  92. 

Third  corpuscles,  108. 

Thirst,  67,  229. 

Tidal  air,  158. 

Tight  collars,  172. 

Timbre  of  voice,  171. 

Thoracic  cage,  40. 

Thoracic  duct,  94. 

Throat,  166. 

Thyroid  cartilage,  167. 

Toasting,  75. 

Tobacco  heart,  118. 

Toothache,  76. 

Tongue.  164. 

Tongueiess  speech,  165. 

Tonsils,  150. 

Torula,  241. 

Trachea,  127. 

Tricuspid  valve,  121. 

Triceps,  to  strengthen,  261. 

Trypsin,  81. 

Tunics  of  the  eye,  178. 

Turbinated  bones,  173. 

Typhoid  fever,  68,  245. 

Tyndall's  experiments,  237. 

Upper  back,  to  develop,  264. 

Uraemia,  144. 

Urea,  144. 

Uriniferous  tubules,  142. 

Uric  acid,  144. 

Urine,  142. 

Valves  in  veins,  126. 
Value  of  pain,  249. 
Varicose  veins,  126. 
Veal,  chemistry  of,  63. 


Vegetables,  chemistry  of,  64. 

Veins,  125,  126. 

Velocity  of  nerve  force,  193. 

Vena  cava,  94. 

Ventilation,  154. 

Ventricles  of  the  brain,  188. 

Ventricles  of  the  heart,  122. 

Vertebras,  41. 

Vertigo,  110. 

Vocal  cords,  167, 168. 

Vocal  culture,  208. 

Voice,  164. 

Voice,  range  of,  169. 

Volition,  192. 

A'oluntary  muscles,  45. 

Vibrations  in  ear,  207. 

Vibrio  serpens,  239. 

Vision,  red,  180. 

Vitality  of  spores,  238. 

Wakefulness,  196. 

Waist,  to  strengthen,  268. 

Walking,  38,  39,  111.  112. 

Water,  68,  73. 

Water  proportion  in  body,  66. 

Water  tests,  71. 

Weight  and  height,  28. 

Weight  of  dried  body,  66. 

Well-water,  71,  72. 

Whisky  bronchitis,  134. 

White  blood  corpuscles,  103. 

Wigs,  17. 

Windpipe,  151. 

Women,  exercise  for,  269. 

Work,  48,  56. 

Work,  limit  of,  49. 

Wrinkles,  23. 

Yawning,  160. 
Yellow  fever,  245. 
Yellow  spot,  178. 

Zooglcea,  239. 


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